Nicephorus Gregoras

NICEPHORUS GREGORAS BYZANTINE HISTORY BOOK TWENTY-FIVE

^A 1. I wished to proceed further for two reasons: first, to learn to what point in that foreign land the Christian race still survives, and through how many nations it extends, and in what manner, in the midst of irreligious men, it still holds to the ancestral dogmas of the faith in a way that is to them simpler and more true; and second, to see if by chance any remnants of that ancient wisdom might still survive among the Chaldeans and Persians. I was hindered by the most honest people of Hierapolis, to whom I had journeyed, even though they were about twelve hundred stadia from the sea. For they asserted that it was not possible to easily access even more distant places on account of the foreign language of the inhabitants; and what is more, even if they could be accessed easily, they insisted that no traces or signs of that wisdom remained among the Chaldeans and Persians.

For from the time that the Scythian race, having poured forth from northern springs like the water of a vast and wide-spreading sea, rushed into Asia and reduced the Persians and Medes—and, so to speak, all of this Asia from the Indians in the East to the Arabs in the South—under their dominion, not only were the greater part of the indigenous customs of those peoples extinguished and ^B deadened, but the very regional distances and borders of those nations were confounded and are now entirely difficult to discern.

At that time they said that a journey into those lands would be most inconvenient for me, especially since there had just arisen contentions and factions among the Scythians themselves over the primacy, their ruler and leader having died a short time before.

Having heard this, and at the same time observing that a similar confusion was spreading among the Arabs as well, since the Egyptian Pharaoh had recently died and his sons were at odds with one another over the kingdom, and the affairs of the Egyptians and Arabs were everywhere in disarray, I departed as quickly as possible from that place and retreated into Cilicia, a very great and opulent land, illustrious in situation and nature. There, after I had found many other distinguished cities near to each other, ^C

and above all Tarsus, where the Patriarch of Antioch usually has his seat—for not only does the city possess other goods, but also the river Cydnus flows quietly by it, in which river they say Alexander the Great himself, at the mere sight of it, was seized with a desire to bathe. ^B II. But when he wished to continue relating more things of this sort, I checked him; and having cut the continuity of his narration, I requested that he return to our conversation and answer my inquiries concerning the patriarchs and the bishops, and all those who had been allotted the duty of governing and administering those provinces in a more sacred manner. And I reproached the man, albeit mildly, for his forgetfulness, because he was striving so earnestly to tell me things that were not altogether necessary for me to hear, while he had buried in the deepest oblivion the memory of those things which it was of the utmost importance for us to know—things which, for the sake of piety, it would have seemed sweeter to me to hear at evening, at dawn, and at midday than if the Lydian Croesus had bestowed upon me bushels of gold—as if he were not the very person who had taken as the beginning of his own narrations the shipwrecks of the Church, because he had seen the new and illegitimate dogmas of Palamas creeping in ahead of the ancestral laws of piety, and considered this the cause of the decline of public affairs for the worse and, at the same time, of his own involuntary flight. “For what other history ought you to have collected, best of friends, Agathangelos?” I said. “What other narration did you think you could bring to me from abroad that would be more excellent and more precious than this? What other most beautiful source of pleasure for our fellow-countrymen here, who guard the Orthodox faith? They all vehemently desire to know how the report of such a calamity, by which the Church of God has been afflicted, affected the minds of those who were then wielding power and striving with monstrous writings to lead the pious men throughout the whole world into error, and were ambitiously endeavoring to secure for themselves, as a kind of trophy of such great wickedness, the fellowship and consensus of all.”

^C III. When I had said this, Agathangelos, taking up the discourse, said: “It has seemed better to me, O divine head, to treat and pursue those things separately at the end of this narration, where there would be nothing at all that could confuse and disturb the facts; for in this matter I was roughly of the opinion that universal and secular history, to speak briefly, differs from ecclesiastical history, and that the description of each ought to be peculiar and separate, and that they usually comprise different things, not the same ones. But since you have chosen to undertake a double labor instead of a single one, and have decided to comprise in one volume the events that happen at the same time in both genres, I myself would in no way hesitate to pursue together the events of that same period, since in another way—for the truth shall be told—I was myself quite afraid...

of exhausting your hearing by confounding distinct matters, ^A when you were already deeply grieved as it was, and when it is not possible to push all those things behind the memory of the deception—things from which some pretext of burden has been instilled, somehow or other. Yet now, since I learn that this version is much more pleasing to you than that one, I gladly accept your will over my own for the time remaining. For what else could appear more fortunate to me now than to grant you such narratives, which are easier for me and for you surely better?

IV. ^B But indeed, after our friend Agathangelus had defended himself regarding those things which he had passed over in silence, he promised to speak in the subsequent narrative of those things which he was to relate, announcing that he would repeat but a few things from the former, because he had already set forth the greater part, and promising that he would omit nothing that was necessary. He said, therefore, that he had met not only the individual bishops whom he chanced upon in the various villages and cities he visited, but that he had met especially the patriarchs themselves—Gregory, that is, of Alexandria, and Ignatius of Antioch, and a third, he who occupied the patriarchal throne of Jerusalem before Lazarus, who arrived there this year; the name of the man, however, escapes me. He said that he had met them in various parts, in one place and then another, wherever each happened to be making his residence at that time. At first, he says, they mocked him and reviled him, and appeared, as it were, to mock him and to shrink away entirely from his association—each individually, yet all of them equally, ^C as if from a common signal—because of the storm that had risen thence from the ancestral dogma. Thus swiftly did the report spread, like the blast of a wild wind, over Egypt, Syria, Cilicia, and, to speak generally, the whole world—wherever communities of Christians had their dwellings—regarding the lawless and bastard dogmas of Palamas; and thus it came to pass that the wretch, who before was obscure, began now to be famous for his wickedness. For he says that glory is acquired not only by dexterous and prudent action, but also by the wickedness of evildoers outstripping virtue.

V. ^D When, however, he began to relate each detail, tracing matters back further, and among the first things put forward was how he himself also fervently embraced the same sentiment as they did for the sake of piety, and how, on account of this very zeal, he became an exile from his native land, and how he was led by such a disposition to wander into places strange and unfamiliar to him—when he had recounted these things and others of this kind to them, by which he proved himself to all, collectively and individually, a steadfast champion of religion, then there was no one who did not repent of his previously formed harshness, and no one who did not welcome him kindly and strive to honor him, and offer manifest pledges of a true harmony of faith. Then also the patriarch of Antioch brought forward a written volume,

^A which contained the agreement of our Orthodox and common faith, while casting out Palamas from the Church of God for introducing spurious and profane dogmas—that volume, namely, which he had composed when he was present in Byzantium, listening to and struggling alongside the patriarch John and the bishops about him. These men were for a time superior, owing to the force of the truth which they defended, and because there was no one present to oppose them—at that time, that is, when it was decreed that this plague, then first sprouting in the pure field, should be rooted out along with its very seed. He says that he unrolled this volume, and at the same time showed the signatures of the unanimity of all the bishops, presbyters, and other most excellent men of that province who stood in the same opinion.

VI. He said that he had found the prelate of Alexandria, along with all the bishops subject to him, and also he who then governed the Church of Jerusalem, ^B to be possessed of the same mind, and that there was absolutely no one whose mouth was not always filled with criticism of the Byzantines for such levity in matters so immutable. He greatly admired the prelate of Alexandria for his abundance of natural prudence, conjoined with gravity and constancy, so that he was not easily driven to untimely ambition, nor did he descend into a certain rude and uncultivated taciturnity on account of great ignorance; but rather, being fortified by the use of affairs, he displayed a certain decorum that was altogether becoming. ^C But he particularly admired this saying of his, which he would mention when he spoke of the man: that for many men, even those who are not otherwise without prudence, the fact that they fancy they know is itself a hindrance to their knowing. This, he said, might indeed seem light, yet it could cause great calamities to both cities and houses, arising like a tiny spark, which, once a more insolent fire is kindled, never ceases to consume everything as soon as the abundance of material readily provides it with fuel. ^D Hence, he says, the regulations and norms established by the fathers are cast aside, the laws are trampled underfoot, and there is nothing good and honest that can remain in its proper state, nor any evil and wickedness that cannot insult the truth. Therefore, what will a kingdom governed by the license of opinion and agitated by the lusts of whim do that is virtuous? From what will it abstain that might incite it to worse things? So far is such a city from being able to be safe and sound, that it is cast into extreme dangers by the storms of the sea, like a ship without a pilot.

Now this is the peculiar condition of the Byzantine state, dating from even earlier times. And I do not wish simply to rebuke this lot, but because for this very reason, if we look back further, we find not only the many calamities of public affairs, but the greatest of all misfortunes: those of the pious Church itself. For evils are born at Byzantium and thence, as if flowing down a slope, easily fill the other cities with the most calamitous things, or else, brought in from elsewhere obscurely and in shadow, they receive a more permanent fixing there and reveal the public coloration of wickedness. Hence it remains for me to wonder, not whether something has happened...

happens there, but rather whether anything being done there is not abhorrent to reason. As for us, who have no intention of pursuing this superfluous and artificial philosophy, nor do we strive, through rhetorical subtleties, to confound things divine with things profane, let us remain in the dogmas of this time that have been well written since ancient days. Nor do we attempt to stir up again what has been wrapped in silence, or to resolve them with inept syllogisms. I say "we"—we upon whom the duty of pastors has fallen here—we live our long life spiritually and lead our spiritual flock in the same way under the governor, the sole creator of all things and God. But the polytheism and atheism of Palamas, or rather, the setting aside of the mystery of the incarnation of God—which is to say, the total subversion of the entire Church—we have neither accepted nor will we ever accept, even if a myriad of myriads of enemies should set before us the instruments and machines of every kind of death. Nay, Palamas himself, and those who think as he does, along with his dogmas of this sort—which we ourselves, whenever we have seen them, have consigned to eternal execration and fire—we continue to consign to the same. You possess and shall possess an accurate representation of these things yourself, by traversing the cities and regions here: ^B Egypt, Arabia, Phoenicia, and Syria, and all the races of Christians dwelling around these parts; seeing how, while living in the midst of the impious—those who possess unclean lips—and being subject to alien weapons, they nevertheless follow the teaching of the bishops here, and always attribute to the holy dogmas the reverence handed down from the fathers. It would take a long time to narrate everything that that divine man communicated to me, and what others, at different times and in different ways, recounted to me as belonging to the same order and piety.

VII. ^C Having spent six years in those places, we then departed, and with sails full, we were carried from Cilicia into the deep, and on the second day we arrived at the island of Cyprus. There I had determined to linger for a long time, both because of the other advantages that the island offers, and because the administration of the commonwealth is excellently tempered by laws and is exceedingly hospitable—but most of all with the intention of enjoying the company of that most wise man, George, I mean, of Lapithos. I could not meet with him, however, immediately upon disembarking from the ship that same day. ^D For he did not have his residence in the vicinity, but there was an interval of two days' journey between it and the port into which we had sailed. For Cyprus is a larger island than Rhodes, and not of the same shape as that one, but oblong. In the middle of the island stands a mountain, which raises its summit to a great height. The mountain is called Olympus, from which three sources of rivers gush forth. The largest of these, which is called Lapithos, descends, dividing and flowing around the region—as it is called—of Leucosia, and discharges its stream into the sea that looks toward the north. He happened to have his dwelling on the banks of this river; and for this reason, he himself, it seems, has been surnamed Lapithes from the river. But immediately, someone from the island...

even before he comes into the man’s own presence, will easily recognize from the very appearance and magnitude of the buildings and stables that he is by no means one of the ignoble and common sort, but one of the most illustrious and foremost of the island. ^A One would recognize it even more from the dignity and gravity of his life. For feasts and sacred assemblies and the utmost generosity toward the needy adorn that house. He had the greatest care for the Christian captives who were frequently led about there, providing himself abundantly with a larger and better portion for their freedom, and at the same time exhorting others in the precepts of the holy Scriptures. For his most serious undertaking, ^B more than anything else, was to teach the Christians gathered in the holy churches not only the other laws of piety, but also to provide and take great care for the needy, so that through him that whole island might be an arena of mercy and faith, and, most of all, a place of freedom for captives.

VI. Furthermore, in those regions are also the king’s estates and residences, and his buildings, which are very beautiful and magnificent, because that part of the island enjoys a more pleasant temperance of air and a more delightful location. ^C For this reason, Georgios Lapithes frequented him often, and enjoyed very great royal respect and honor, as much on account of his dignity as his wisdom, with which he was more endowed than all others. Even the king himself was not moderately imbued with the philosophy of the Latins; but although for that reason he always had many Latin sages around him, he was more delighted by the humanity and companionship of Georgios. For he says, "Sages are the tyrants of the society of the wise." Having him then, he was persuaded to acquire for himself both forms of wisdom equally, I mean both that of the Greeks and that of the Latins; ^D for Georgios was most skilled in both wisdom and language. For this reason, the king gladly heard him often disputing in his presence with the Latin sages, whom he would defeat, striking them most powerfully with the arrows of syllogistic arguments, especially when the struggle was instituted concerning the observance of the ancestral dogmas of the faith; for then, like a river, pouring in upon them with the demonstrations of holy Scripture, he made them appear like completely mute fish. And he would soothe the king, sometimes driven to anger by these disputations, again with the charm of his words and the irrefutable turning and circling of the truth. By such methods, then, he would gently repress the harshness of that royal soul and introduce tranquility and serenity in its place. And to put the matter briefly, there was no one at all—whether he was not inexperienced in Greek doctrine or not entirely devoid of Latin philosophy—to whom one would not grant the victory in any learned contest, far surpassing his adversaries. I, indeed, had heard of the man’s reputation even before I sailed from here, not only by often reading his letters, with which he replied to your letters and to the duty of friendship, but also when his highest praises...

^A reached me from the mouths of those who had arrived from there for the most part. Yet my admiration for him was confined to narrow limits. But when I travelled to Cyprus and was staying with him—he whose greatest care and diligence was to provide me hospitality on your account—then I knew and tested the man more perfectly. For I saw that fame of his living and breathing, as it were, with my own ears and eyes, and having confirmed it for myself, and having obtained very clear pledges of the truth, I practically saw the fame itself being refuted and clearly shown to be far short of what it should have been.

Above all else, I admired his mind and the friendship he held for you. He was so passionately devoted to your treatises and books that I could not adequately express it. For whenever he perused as many of them as time offered to his desire, he was always filled with great pleasure, and his outward appearance revealed the intense internal ^B agitation of his soul; one would have said that he was divinely inspired as he applauded each point, and seemed, if I may say so, to forget in what part of the world he was. For sometimes he seemed to be conversing with you, and to be present with you yourself, and to hear you speaking—whatever the subject was—as he went through it with his own tongue, especially when he took into his hands that dialogue which you wrote against Barlaam the Calabrian.

He strove most zealously and almost intentionally with great labor that he might not only admire your writings himself, but also that he might always hold your praises with the greatest admiration in his mouth in discussions with the Latins, whether in the presence of the king or wherever else opportunities for conversation and discourse might arise. So much so that ^C he almost hung the whole of Cyprus upon your hymns and made them all your preachers, even before they saw any of your own works. So much did he desire to be granted the sight and conversation of you, and so much was he entirely occupied with such thoughts night and day, that he prayed that neither you would die nor he depart from life before he arrived at Byzantium, a thing he had long desired and resolved upon for no other reason than to be able to enjoy your presence and company.

So simple and in every respect sincere was his spirit always toward you, and nothing painted or counterfeit ever lay hidden in those letters, which, full of long panegyrics of you, he constantly sent to you. He also brought to ^D me the writings on astronomy which you had sent him at various times. In this matter I was almost struck with wonder at how he comprehended the most laborious and difficult of astronomical questions in a few syllables. Nor did he neglect Ptolemy’s *Tetrabiblos* on astrology; but he not only read it most studiously, but also all the books on a similar subject that still exist, composed by writers older or more recent than Ptolemy, or written by the ancient Chaldeans and Persians. But whatever things exceeded the limits established by holy laws and went beyond the fixed goal, he rejected and loathed as harmful to those desiring to live piously; whatever, on the contrary, soberly concerned the reasons and causes of things

pertaining to the creative design of existing beings, he welcomed and accepted most readily. He furthermore ^A studied these matters zealously, so as not to be shaken by the clever sophistries of the Latins there—who, together with the king himself, devote not a light or mediocre effort to that branch of knowledge, inasmuch as the Egyptian Arabs frequently traverse the sea to the king for the sake of learned disputation and ambition, not without that great ostentation of the Arabs, who spend their whole life in the study of investigating whether any trace of the ancient Chaldean wisdom might still survive. For they said that, since it was determined by the Creator that all things which arise and pass away should be brought about and formed by the quality and motion of the celestial bodies, and that the stream of matter should be governed and modulated, as it were, by laws corresponding to the configurations and relations that obtain between these and terrestrial things, we should by no means strive to know the one while neglecting the other. For he who would neither unite practice with speculation, nor one with the other, enters upon a certain blind path of doctrine. Since, therefore, contemplation in these two types of philosophy ^B is exercised, he would certainly not grasp the reasons of things, and would be far from being able to be called a perfect sage, who would not induce his mind to investigate the mysteries of both philosophies as much as is needful.

IX. But enough of these matters. He, however, since he enjoyed much leisure or considered it a matter of greater importance than any occupation to cultivate and attend to me for your sake, went about the island with me and pointed out what was worth seeing, not only in other places but also in the theaters, the marketplaces, and the courts of justice. He further demonstrated to me how the system of coinage and money remained the same through all time and was never altered in the least degree; and how in weights and measures all types of commodities for sale were given and received not according to the will of each individual seller, but according to the ancient institutions of the state; nor as the greed and avarice of the wealthy might wish to gain more than is just, but as the laws and disciplines, well-prescribed by our ancestors as guardians, might command for all time. ^C Neither he who excels in wealth nor he who happens to be advanced in physical strength could there easily oppress and circumvent those who are inferior in both these respects; for whoever might dare to transgress the laws of the state even in the slightest, he is immediately punished, if not by loss of life, then at least by those members of the body which the laws command according to the proportion of the offense. This system, he said, assuring me, is what maintains and holds together states and cities, lands and islands, privately and publicly; but if it is overturned, it overturns with a sudden rush even all things both collectively and individually—those things which are handled illegitimately in states and cities—since by no means can a firm and stable foundation underlie things that are repugnant to the law, but in a short time all providence, which should contain the state, is agitated and dissolved. ^D

^A For if the whole body of the state is healthy, it is necessary that the members in concord with it should also fare well; just as, conversely, when it is sick, they too cannot but be affected by the disease, inasmuch as they imitate it as a primary model, and present the political authority and condition as a most rich witness to the depravity. The Lord, therefore, being just and, as is consistent, loving justice, elevates to greater happiness the nations which, as the holy Apostle says, although they do not have the law, yet by nature comply with the precepts of the law; but He hates those who have indeed undertaken and professed that they would live according to the institutions and laws of religion, yet by their deeds mock their own promises and shake off every rule and standard of justice. For he who turns away from justice and chooses the lots of injustice, and while neither standing in awe of divine laws nor regarding any human fortune, he has clearly sequestered himself of his own free will from God, who holds the thrones of justice, and has simultaneously entered into intimacy with the devil. For this reason, in that land where such evils are sown, the basest arts prevail, while the virtues necessarily hold the lower place; there exists a desolation of all good things, and there, finally, the devil most impudently insults religion itself, inciting his followers sharply so that they might deny and discard it. ^B Such a thing has also happened to the Byzantine state; for, having hated that truth and the justice of political authority, and having made injustice and falsehood its own, it threw open its gates to impiety with all its might. And since, for these things, the devil needed a body and an instrument fully suited to him, he finds Palamas—a little man, as I have heard, though I have come to know him more accurately from his own writing—utterly mean and knowing nothing more than how he might capture vain glory and, on account of this very thing, contrive depraved opinions. And when he had added to him the princes as allies, he gathered together all the profane and adulterated dogmas—to speak briefly—whatever at other times had perniciously crept into the churches of God, and at this time, he compelled them all [to be accepted] and sowed upon the Church of Christ a very abundant and utterly varied fruit of wickedness. For that wretch not only taught polytheism but even added atheism, and along with it Arianism and Iconoclasm, and finally the denial of the incarnation of the Son and Word of God. But what need is there to go through each point, when it is permitted to refute everything, following the traces, from the sacred books of the holy Fathers? ^C But indeed, while that most wise and dear-to-God man was relating such things to me, and from time to time bringing books which he himself had laboriously gleaned from the whole of sacred Scripture as weapons to provide for those who were choosing to live piously there, and which other illustrious and orthodox men of the island had published, having manifestly spoken against the depraved opinions of Palamas, ^D a rumor

reached the ears of the Cypriots that the emperor Cantacuzenus had entered Byzantium secretly by night and had seized the imperial throne through the assistance and deceitful machinations of Palamas, to whom he had first pledged himself with the guarantee of a terrible oath—or, what amounts to the same thing, had sworn by God, whom he professed to adjure, that he would confirm and establish his polytheism and all the profane and irreligious innovations of his that had been introduced into the Church of God. ^B This threw that most wise man, George Lapithes, into great sadness—not because Cantacuzenus had seized the throne, but because he was held captive by such oaths, having become a prisoner to the impieties of Palamas. Wherefore, cast down from those noble hopes which had long nourished joy in his mind, he took it ill and was indignant, his spirit agitated and seething like a stormy sea. For he had hoped to sail with me from there upon my return as far as Byzantium, for the sake of seeing and conversing with you, as we have already said, spurred by a longing for higher wisdom—perhaps also for other needs and for seeing all those things which, more than other cities, the city of the Byzantines happens to possess. But now, in an instant, seeing the opposite prevailing, he was pierced with grief, and wept for the piety thus openly driven into danger, ^C God having permitted this through hidden reasons; and he wept likewise for your death, which he suspected, as he considered how ardent your zeal toward God was, and how combative a struggle you were destined to manifest for the dogmas of the Fathers, even unto death.

XI. But what need is there to recount in detail everything that we observed on that island in no less than two years,

XI. Regarding the departure from Cyprus and the arrival in Crete

^A, widening equally the left and right sides, and left in the middle, at frequent intervals, polished columns to support the earth above. He distributed and made various dwellings, courtyards, and fountains. The labyrinth was shown to me by the locals, who were holding many lit torches in their hands. They say, then, that Minos, who ruled Crete in ancient times, as you know, having acquired a very great naval power, enslaved the surrounding nations, as many as then inhabited the Cyclades islands and as many as reach into the interior of Boeotia and Attica. In later times, when the rule had passed by succession to the Minotaur, a man of cruel habits, they say that he imposed various tributes on various people, and that he commanded the inhabitants of Attica to lead away each year seven sons and seven daughters of the nobles into the labyrinth, a dungeon of oblivion. When the lot fell to Theseus, Aegeus his father, being then the ruler of Attica, would not let him go; but he departed secretly ^B, very willingly placing himself in the number of the twice-seven, on account of which, as some say, Aegeus, throwing himself into that sea, ended his life, and the Aegean Sea was named from him. They say, however, that Ariadne, the daughter of the Minotaur, being captivated by the beauty of Theseus, secretly instructed him with means for his liberation; by using these, Theseus most easily found the exit of the labyrinth, and then, having killed the Minotaur, fled by sea to his native land at once with Ariadne and the Attic youths, and shortly after founded the celebrated city of the Athenians, who had previously inhabited Attica dispersed through individual villages.

XII. For me, after that sight, it happened that I visited the other villages, states, and cities of the island. And indeed I observed the whole race of people who inhabit the island, discovering that they were Romans ^C and that they steadfastly maintained the piety of their ancestral faith as handed down from their ancestors. It was indeed in my mind to remain there for a longer time, in order to explore the affairs of the island more diligently and accurately; but I was deterred from this purpose by the tumult of arms and of the military forces that were then raging there. For the island had long since fallen into calamities, on account of which, having been subdued by Latin arms, it had submitted to the rule of the Venetian republic. Now, however, when a rumor had been spread over the whole continent and the island that the Genoese, who hold the castle of Galata ^D in the vicinity of the city, having broken their treaty and rebelled, had defeated the Byzantines in a naval battle and were dreaming of the empire of the whole sea, such that they could neither be restrained nor would even deign to stand in alliance with their fellow-people, but instead bore themselves with a certain arrogant and, so to speak, imperial haughtiness toward all who live a maritime life, because of this many were disturbed, and especially the Venetians, who, although they were able in a short time to equip great naval forces and for that reason to assume no mediocre spirits, were then, beyond expectation, by them

^A already hindered from sailing up and sailing around to the upper regions, to Lake Maeotis, and to the mouths of the Tanais, at their own discretion and will as before. Hence, they themselves ^B began to gather their own forces, constructing more triremes than there had been until then, and launching and refitting from every quarter the ships that had long been laid up in the dockyards. At the same time, they summoned their allied and subject cities and islands to the common struggle, to contribute arms, triremes, and marine soldiers according to each one's capacity. They called up for military daring, moreover, other forces from remote ^C regions—with generous wages for the present and promises of even more generous rewards for the future—among which were the Catalans, who dwell down by the Gallic Sea where the feet of the Pyrenees mountains end most closely; these yield to no Latins in ferocity and martial virtue, whether in land battles or in naval engagements.

XIII. Since, therefore, Crete was being troubled for this reason and was, so to speak, shaken, preparing for allied arms and whatever equipment is suited for warding off enemy incursions, I departed from there as spring was beginning. Leaving to my left the island of Salamis, where they say that Themistocles, son of Neocles, ^D long ago sank that naval force of the Persians, I passed by the islands they call the Cyclades and sailed into the island of Euboea, which had been subject to the Venetians for many years already. When I had decided to stay there for some time, I was deterred from my purpose by the equipment for arms and war, to which even the Euboeans were applying themselves with the greatest zeal and alacrity. For the rumor was that triremes from Genoa were about to sail against them with hostile intent at any moment. Wherefore, having in a short time thoroughly surveyed the whole island and visited the cities as much as I could, I set out for Artemisium, the northern promontory of Euboea.

But when I wished to sail on from there, the enemy's fleet came upon me and prevented my departure. For fourteen Genoese triremes were seen at the end of summer sailing with all speed into Oropus and Aulis. Between these two cities, which lie a little toward the south, there is an oblong harbor that defies every violent force of the most turbulent storm; into this the enemies had just sailed. On the following day, thirty-four Venetian triremes, having long lain in wait for those enemy ships, arrived and, blocking the mouth of the harbor, unexpectedly surrounded the Genoese ships like a net. Of these, four ships immediately spread their sails and, as if committing themselves to the cast of the dice and preferring the danger that was manifest to that which was doubtful, escaped the enemy's sword; but the remaining ships—with the exception of a few men who leaped onto the mainland—the Venetians captured with their crews, without engaging in close combat or joining a naval battle. And this affair occurred in this way at that time. But the prefect of the Venetian fleet, after matters turned out so successfully, having arranged the affairs of Euboea as much as possible, set sail...

^A with full sails from Euboea and directed his course straight for Byzantium. In the meantime, having learned that the emperor was staying at Thessalonica, he chose four of his ships, handed them over to one of his most trusted men, and sent him to the emperor to negotiate an alliance against their common enemies. As for himself, he sailed toward Byzantium, intending to await the arrival of the emperor there.

XIV. But you yourself would know better than I what followed, since you were present at those events and saw them, and are very eager to write down such things. For my part, fearing the tumults that were ranging over the sea, I decided it was necessary to remain where I was for the time being. It was then that I caught sight of those four Genoese triremes returning, which, as we have said, had managed to escape that peril a little while before, and had secretly seized one of the most affluent seaside cities of Euboea, and having suddenly plundered it, had sailed off at once with the soldiers they had previously lost, while the Euboeans, suspecting nothing of the kind, were sleeping, as they say, the sleep of Endymion because of that recent victory. ^B

XV. Not much time had elapsed before I saw those thirty-four Venetian triremes returning home from Byzantium, having accomplished nothing, because the emperor was residing at Thessalonica at that time. But when the winter had passed and the rays of the spring sun were beginning to kindle, fourteen ships from Venice again hurried to Byzantium with sails and oars and all the zeal of their souls, so that, by occupying the straits of the Euxine Bridge, they might lay an ambush for the Genoese merchant vessels which were to transport grain supplies from up high from the Euxine Sea and the Scythian shores adjacent to the sea for those in Galata. But you yourself know accurately what followed and what outcome these matters had, since you were present and saw them. For I, having remained there, having learned only from certain obscure rumors—among other things—this as well: that the Venetians had captured almost all the ships of the fortress of Galata that were shut up in the Euxine Sea, as they had just come down, and that they had captured the greater part of them at ^C the straits of the Euxine, where they suspected no danger, while the rest were scattered in individual roadsteads of the Euxine, where each happened to be at anchor, and were later occupied as they sailed by. And when the Venetians had already joined the emperor to themselves as an ally, who had brought up very great forces by land and sea, and when eight allied triremes had been received by them from the island of Crete, and in addition to these, six transport ships had been prepared from among the very largest, carrying all kinds of siege engines and a great many very brave heavy-armed soldiers, it seemed to all that the time was now opportune to advance with all their forces and besiege the fortress on the very same day. And we had heard that, although matters had been organized in this way, nothing was brought to a conclusion by them, so that the prefect of the Venetian fleet, having now despaired of the matter and having abandoned the emperor, who was pursuing the war, with the utmost haste ^D

had departed, having learned already that sixty triremes were setting out from Genoa, contrary to all expectation, into the open sea.

XVI. These things, indeed, being far from my homeland, I heard as if through a mist; but you, as the narrative progresses, will set forth things that are truer and more certain regarding what was done there, adding at the same time the causes of these events. But now, I will myself recount in order, accurately and in detail, the things of which I was an eyewitness while present there. We must therefore return to the point from which we digressed, so that the continuity of the history may provide a clear and easy understanding of these remarkable events to those who encounter it.

^B XVII. I happened to be staying near the mouths of Euboea and the city of Carystus as the summer was already drawing to a close, and at that time it happened that those fifteen Venetian triremes—which we have already demonstrated had returned from the harbors of Byzantium—sailed into Oreus, a city of Euboea with a well-appointed harbor. For the eight Cretan triremes had departed from there to return home to protect their own interests. At the same time, frequent and grave reports were striking the island with terror, stating that sixty enemy ships were very close. Therefore, the prefect of the Venetian fleet in haste removed all the equipment from his own ships; and having left the hulls empty, he sank them in the harbor, secured by cables, so that they might not be captured by the enemy ^C who were sailing straight toward them. Then, as quickly as he could, he roused all the Euboeans to martial vigor, and at the same time he sent an embassy to the Latins who were in Athens and Thebes, requesting the assistance of three hundred picked cavalrymen. Furthermore, he did not cease day and night from arming the city magnificently, sparing no expense and adding all kinds of fortifications round about. Two days passed in the interval, and those enemy ships were sighted around late evening, sailing toward Euboea. And on that evening, since there was a calm, they remained out at sea, took their evening meal, and having decided upon what was to be done, as soon as, at the first light of the following day, they had drawn up their battle line, laden with all kinds of weaponry, they sailed into the harbor of Oreus. They struck great terror, raising their battle standards, ^D and sounding trumpets, pipes, and other such instruments which excite the spirits of men toward alacrity and the ardor of battle. But since there was absolutely no opportunity for a naval engagement (for the ships did not encounter others to descend into combat with them), having left a sufficient number of archers in the ships to guard them and to defend against and distract those missiles that were being hurled from the ramparts, the rest of them all disembarked onto land, wishing to encircle the city. They brought along many ladders, hoping to capture the city immediately, relying on their numbers and the martial boldness of their soldiers. Having therefore besieged the city, they attacked it by hurling missiles from afar and assaulting the walls with ladders; and, because a multitude of men was available, they began to drive mines straight toward the walls from a distance, so that they might break into the city secretly, either by the ascent of ladders or by a subterranean passage of tunnels. Now, the prefect and leader of the Venetian fleet, by means of machines against machines from within

^A, did not hesitate to offer resistance, so that the attempts of the enemies from without proved fruitless. For by volleys of stones from the battlements and with all kinds of missiles, he first wounded and drove them away. Whenever he saw and suspected that the wall was accessible by ladders, he immediately added a sufficient height to it, connecting the intervals between the individual battlements; on these he built a structure not exceeding the height of a man, tapering to a slender and sharp peak, so that even for enemies who had scaled the wall, keeping their footing was both difficult and very dangerous. Furthermore, regarding that subterranean tunnel, he conjectured where the end of the trench would emerge through the wall, and within it he dug a transverse ditch much deeper than their tunnel, so that when they finally crept within the walls, they would unexpectedly fall into a pit and abyss of death. For by rolling heavy stones down upon these falling men, they immediately cast them into inevitable nets of death. ^B

After many days had passed, the auxiliaries of the Athenians and Thebans arrived: three hundred picked horsemen and more volunteer foot soldiers than they had themselves. And as the report spread through the whole island, many flocked from all sides, each holding whatever weapon he chanced to have in his hands. The Venetian general and commander of the fleet had laid night ambushes in the ravines before the city, and at daybreak he led his forces out into the open—armored soldiers, peltasts, archers, and spearmen—and as many cavalrymen as he could find among the citizens there at that time, so that his entire combat-ready force amounted to no less than five thousand picked men. Newly reinforced by the Athenian and Theban auxiliary force, he dared at last to join battle and engage, although the number of the enemies was twice as large as his own. He thought it better, if possible, for the outcome of the entire war to be decided on that day, rather than to have the struggle dragged out over a long time while the enemies ravaged the countryside day and night. Wherefore, having drawn up the army and distributed the ranks, and having given the left wing to the Athenians and Thebans, while he himself held the right ^C, he led them against the enemy camp, provoking them to an engagement of battle. They, therefore, immediately leaped to their arms and, leaving their ships almost empty, resisted valiantly at the start; but later, as the cavalry charged them spiritedly and the infantry phalanxes attacked from every side with shouting and clamor, they were unable to bear the onslaught, but retreated, being trampled and wounded. With the arrival of night, the battle was broken off, and they boarded their ships, not nearly as many as they had come, nor in the same order, but in a state that was truly very much the opposite. For on enemy soil no fewer than five hundred men had been killed, and a no less significant number of soldiers had been affected by wounds. Wherefore, that same night they were compelled to depart without order, dragging with them certain ships that had been stripped of their rowers. The prefect and commander of the Venetian fleet, with two ships that were swifter and better equipped than the rest, having extracted the things from the sea and whatever was immediately available, as far as it was possible ^D

they embarked upon their own ^A ships, not as many as had arrived, nor with the same formation, but quite on the contrary. For there had fallen on that hostile side no fewer than five hundred, while the wounded, on the other hand, numbered no fewer. Thus, even while it was still night, they were compelled to sail away, dragging behind some of the ships that remained. Very quickly that admiral and commander of the Venetian fleet drew two of his own ships out of the sea’s waters—those that were swifter than the others, and equipped them as best he could—and sent one to the Venetian aristocracy to report what had happened, and the other to Byzantium to declare the same things to the Venetians there, and at the same time to reconnoiter where the enemy was voyaging. So be it. ^B XVIII. I myself was carried on this ship and arrived at the Hellespont; for there, the ship that was carrying us had moored and lowered its oars near the port of Tenedos, having heard that the enemy fleet had touched land at Chios, both for the sake of the care of the wounded, and at the same time, insofar as they were able, to receive the places of those who had died in the battle, from where it might be easier for them. Wherefore, having entrusted the reports of the victory to an agile man, it sent him to Byzantium, while it itself, having weighed anchor, departed with all speed for Euboea. ^C And as I waited there for four days, there appeared to my sight the shadowy memories of that Troy, of which there is much talk by the illustrious Homer, that fleets with ten thousand men, having sailed toward it on account of that Helen, had lost many of their own heroes and after ten years had utterly enslaved it. I also beheld the mouths of the river Scamander, which gushes forth from Mount Ida, not as Homer writes in the Iliad, that its banks were scorched by Hephaestus on account of Achilles, the son of Thetis—for that is a myth told in the language of poetic license—but that lilies and thickets and grasses were around it, all beautiful, and sufficient to refute the tongue of Homer. ^D XIX. But on the following day I found a merchant ship about to sail to Byzantium, and I arrived home carrying with me no more than ten gold coins (for everything else of mine had been consumed in those travels). Thinking, therefore, that smaller and lesser-value coins were more suitable for purchasing individual necessities, I straightway exchanged those gold ones for such coins. But when, on the next day, I had gone to those selling wares, I discovered that the money I held in my hands had been devalued, and its price had diminished so much in one day that those ten coins were worth only eight. ^D Wherefore a certain old friend whispered in my ears that I should immediately, on that very day, use all those little coins to buy necessary things, lest, as things fluctuate daily like the Euripus, it should become my lot that in a short time what I then possessed would be reduced to nothing. And I truly wondered, by the gods, how the sun endures to illuminate this land with its light. It seems that the sun, though devoid of speech, teaches us the ways of patience through voiceless sounds; though we are gifted with speech by the common Creator, and are always ruled by His rightful commandments, we never understand anything of what is necessary.

XX. This, then, was the first shipwreck that cast bitter thoughts into my soul, when I had already traversed that vast sea; the second was the overthrow of the ancestral dogmas of the Church of God. Seeing this beginning to sprout, even as late-born weeds in a field, and at the same time hearing you foretell that God, for the vengeance of our sins, would permit a persecution against our religion, and knowing within myself that I should not be able to endure it, I became a voluntary exile from this fatherland of mine for already a full twenty years. Would that even more time had been added to this flight! But I was destined, it seems, to exchange waves for waves, by far more savage than those in foreign lands. For although I have traveled through many strange places and crossed a great many seas, I have never yet encountered such waves as those which have arisen here, to which I returned, hoping now most of all to refresh myself. For all those seas and every wave there threatened death to the body, the approach of which the immortal decree of nature had already foreordained; but the storms and tempests ^B of divine dogmas threaten death to the immortal soul, a death which can never, in any way, reach an end. And yet, I was not entirely unfamiliar with such waves even from afar. But a very sweet hope still urged me on, as I remembered the friendship that existed between you and the Emperor, and that nocturnal and daily companionship which he pursued with you with such supreme desire and burning spirit before he was elevated to the imperial throne, and how he hung upon your words and writings, and himself gathered the richest fruits from them, so that there was no one who could have thought it possible for any change to occur in his character, but rather that he would only progress further with the turns of fortune. But now, having come and learned that the reality is the exact opposite, and that he repays you, in exchange for your labors and affections, with such things as you—striving for the sake of religion—were bound to endure, but which he had no reason to inflict (for he ought neither to have become a persecutor of religion, nor, should he ever have done so, was it fitting for him to change his mind toward you in any respect), I counted you blessed for your fortitude, while I was ^C exceedingly angry at him for his madness. Or rather, I wept for the man because of his ruin. Indeed, I wondered—and I will never cease to wonder—how the wretch could for so long have concealed and harbored such wild and monstrous beasts |of wickedness| in the thickets of his soul. If, therefore, the matter be wrapped in certain sacred and secret reasons, I shall always wonder at it in silence, nor shall I ever ask anyone how it might be explained. But before all else, the medicines which your contemplations provide will suffice for my cure, even if you wish to hold a conversation with me on other matters. But if you have conceived some scheme learned in the mind, do not cease, dearest friend, to share it with me, so that you may bring medicine to my mind, which is laboring under a great lack of counsel in this regard, and for yourself [bring] some respite from the heavy grief which ^D your soul has suffered.

^A For the tempests of our ancestral dogmas and the opposing waves of our impious rulers know how to provide some consolation, by declaring the coming of tragedies from an obscure source, just as grief itself flies away like smoke through the tongue.

XXI. But I, taking up the discourse, “Regarding sorrow,” I said, “best of friends, Agathangelos, I do not believe there will be need for many words on my part toward you. ^B For there is as much sorrow present in me as, I suppose, there is joy. For joy is present in me, inasmuch as I already look toward the eternal rewards which are reserved for those who have contended for the sake of piety, which is the greatest provision for the consolation of those who are sorrowful. But I am pained all the more, seeing the upheaval of the Church and the cold-heartedness of the persecuting rulers, who have no regard for their soul, nor even if it be late, do they wish to take to mind that there is a reckoning of one’s life from God. And most of all, the action of my friend Cantacuzenus, manifestly committed against me, has remained a biting thing, because while I maintained a sincere friendship toward him and gave him the best counsel—that he should spare his own soul, that he should spare the safety of his children, and if there should be any of those related to him by blood, ^C lest he clearly leave an inheritance of divine wrath to them all—he considered me one of his bitterest enemies, for the very things for which he should rather have loved me as having rendered him the greatest service. And when he had the greater opportunity, having seized the scepter and being able, if he had wished, to demonstrate a nature endowed with the best of sentiments, he revealed himself to be bound by the opposite evils, showing it all to be a brief scene and a temporary spectacle. Therefore, I cannot but pursue with wonder those wise men who say that he can be steadfast and constant in love for friends, in whom there is no desire to serve glory. For he who is inflamed by the desire for glory cannot be a friend to the man himself, but only to the gathering of glory among men; for the sake of which he does everything, ^D undertakes everything, serves the times, adapts himself to any kind of fortune, and most easily changes himself after the manner of a chameleon according to the vicissitudes of the times, his mind from all sides contriving an opportunity to state his misery and to show his own trusted things to be untrusted by all. For he most easily becomes an enemy to those to whom he seemed a friend, and most easily a plotter against those to whom he recently seemed an advisor. I believe it is impossible to find anything worse in life than this, just as, conversely, there is nothing more excellent than what is noble and constant. However, all these things are governed by certain secret reasons of Providence. These things currently happening to us may be, in a certain way, a proof that wealth, glory, and independent power reveal a man’s plans and character more clearly than poverty and a life dependent upon others. For inglorious obscurity, imposed against one’s will, is like a bond that cannot be loosened at one’s own discretion.

^A Wherefore, for the most part, not only to those further away, but even to those who had associated with them for a long time, the true character of many people is unknown, since they color the face of their soul, as it were, with the studies and pursuits they present to the public. Hence, one may learn that no one to whom nature has given prudence should be called happy before he reaches the end and has exchanged life for death; nor, indeed, should Providence be blamed if any even before they have committed sins are chastened by diseases and various calamities. For God, who turns all things for the better, knows the fire of the love of glory in the soul that lies hidden as if under ashes, which, having acquired a certain strength by which it might be moved like a spark, would be about to stir up a great conflagration of wickedness. It is not, therefore, so strange or inconsistent if we, too, were deceived by the man by whom everyone at all was deceived, since one who is himself not very inclined toward wickedness is by no means easily brought to suspicion. It is, however, more to be wondered at how he endured for so long a time to serve the ways of others, while hiding his own character—a thing most difficult to contend with and, by God, hardly bearable. For if he was not good by nature, yet practiced and performed most of the good things in public, I marvel at the man's endurance. If, however, he was at that time such as he appeared, in the very state of his nature, and the change of fortune had so easily changed even this, I cannot to that extent praise such instability of nature, just as I cannot find fault with the things previously perpetrated. ^B For those things were of such a kind that anyone would love and admire them—which we ourselves also did, and have pursued them with ambitious zeal in this history. But after the occupation of the empire, he committed deeds such as anyone who wishes to live piously would hate. But God, to whom the scepters of religion are entrusted and to whom the power of exacting punishment is very readily available, will surely have His own Church in His care and at heart. For it seems superfluous to me to explain things that are known to everyone, although we have also set forth in the *Antirrhetics* the things that were done before Cantacuzenus had obtained the empire. Then we have again written down in this history some of the things that followed, acting only the part of a narrator, not of a disputant; for our own shipwrecks did not provide us with security. But if God should wish, while we are still living, to clear the sky for us and grant our tongue wide freedom, I believe that no matter will be left covered by silence by me. ^C Now, however, if you should wish, at this point, to address us as you explained to us—as was appropriate for the nature and character of the history—concerning the patriarchs and bishops throughout the world who defend the orthodox faith and teach the dogmas of piety bare-headed in the midst of the Gentiles, so you would wish to begin your discourse on these matters, whatever you have heard here since your return to the fatherland, both from the common people and from private individuals, concerning the predatory synod convened against us by the persecutors of the Church, and then what we...

^A have suffered, and how the various minds of men, whether noble or of another fortune, origin, or station of prudence, have been affected for our sake; and furthermore, that I have not ceased to respond to what is fitting for you, putting aside the weakness of my health and the sickness of my mind to hear your account. For from the time when our oppressors and the tormentors of the Church locked our doors against everyone, I have been able to learn nothing in detail of these matters until this day, although the knowledge of them is what I most desire. Therefore, returning to the subject, explain everything to me individually, adding also the time when you returned to Byzantium and when you heard each thing, so that by the ordering of the narrative, a clear knowledge of these events may emerge for both of us from every side.

XXII. "As far as the time is concerned," he says, "I returned to Byzantium after the rising of the dog-star, while summer was already ^B drawing to a close. Once I had disembarked from the ship, I came home, and there I spent fifteen consecutive days refreshing myself and gradually shaking off the hardships of travel. During these days, as various friends came to meet me and spoke with me, I learned accurately everything about that synod of which they spoke—by what method it was hastily convened, what lawless things were done there by the presiding officers who supported Palamas and openly swore false oaths, how the doctrine of a multiplicity of divinities was ratified, and indeed how the mystery of the Economy of the Incarnation was overturned. Besides other things, moreover, which should not even be brought to the ears of people who choose to live piously and moderately, there were also, of course, those things which those men, to whose lot fell the office of shepherds—concerning which shepherds the Lord said: 'The shepherds went mad, the shepherds have destroyed my vineyard' [*]—committed in a barbaric and savage manner. I also learned ^C how they had established a most horrible persecution everywhere; how, consequently, some bishops had come into discord with others, and almost all with all, as if touched by repentance and terrified by the magnitude of their own crimes, and were utterly unable to endure the insults and hostilities brought upon them from every side; and finally, how the emperor, rushing into the midst, had subjugated some with flatteries and largess, others with threats, and had drawn them to the side of Palamas and caused them to compose new tomes by which they might confirm his impiety. Since, however, if I wished to inquire and examine all other matters, I would need more leisure, I thought it best to defer these to other times, and I expended all my zeal and effort in examining these two matters only more ^D accurately: first, that I might learn why those in power had decreed that you should be enclosed in a stricter confinement than the rest; and second, what exactly had been inscribed by the bishops and the emperor in these new tomes, and why they were keeping these things, which were drafted by their own hands, among themselves, shielding them with profound silence, lest anyone should be able to examine them.

^B XXIII. Many discourses were therefore often spread about you by many people, which, although they appeared diverse among themselves, all looked toward one single end, namely your praises, according to the extent to which each person was favorably disposed toward you in their mind or possessed judgment concerning the things that were being done. But those who were very frequent visitors to Palamas and to Coccinus, the bishop of Heraclea, and were able to learn of the situation more clearly from them, cite almost these causes: first, that for you, who are writing the Roman history of all current events with such an ambitious zeal so far as lies within you, it is consistent, or rather necessary, to set forth also the ecclesiastical conflicts. For who, seeing you choosing, of your own accord, the heavy labor of composing the history of public affairs—which in no way pertain to you, and which occur, I might almost say, across the whole world—for the sake of a glory that wanders about the earth and rests, so to speak, upon a fragile and corrupt foundation, would forbear to be free from suspicion? Or rather, who would not consider that you are endeavoring to set down all the strength of your words here so that you might leave behind for future ages a century filled with your own glory, and that you might publicize throughout the whole world the tempests concerning the ancestral dogmas, as far as is possible, and at the same time show your own struggles undertaken for their sake, and the dangers, redolent of every kind of death, which those evil men are constantly holding over you? They say this is the one reason why your opponents are stirred up against you more vehemently than against others and are perpetually preparing lethal cups for you. The other cause is this: while others spend a secure and indolent life at home, you did not cease to fill the palace with zeal and all manner of turmoil; while you taught those who are adorned with nobility of birth and with the vicissitudes of fortune to embrace the ancestral customs and laws splendidly, you taught them also to abstain from the illegitimate novelties of the words of Palamas; and you heaped reproaches upon the emperor himself, both privately and publicly, comparing him now with Isidore, who formerly held the patriarchate, now with the impious Palamas, then with Julian and Maximian, and then with the Iconoclasts and persecutors of that kind. Then, not content even with these things, you did not cease, with a bold and unbridled tongue, from hurling the same calumnies repeatedly, even into the great council of that frantic band of pastors, and interjecting things greater than these, and lashing out with the most bitter curses, and acting more madly against yourself, even though you were by no means unaware that he [the Emperor], even if he suppresses his anger for the time being, nevertheless defers it to a future time, until he can bring it to its end.

^C XXIV. They cite a third reason: that you, mocking them, brought matters to a threat, as you promised that you would refute with antirretic discourses that tome which they had recently dared to compose secretly against the true faith. And fourth, because for a long time now you have been teaching all the secular wisdom to a great many people from every quarter—

^A pupils, not only those who have been born to fathers of high reputation, but also those who, though they may have been of humble fortune, life, or station, were naturally endowed with excellence and understanding. Through these you have drawn their parents also to your side. Consequently, entire families of citizens owe you gratitude, rendering it to you as to a father, kinsman, friend, and guide to all the best things. Because of this, your name has become famous and highly admired by almost everyone, which in itself is enough to bring all of those people, by unspoken voices, so to speak, to share your opinion and to vote for you, without their own judgment being subjected to examination, in the same way that they say the Pythagoreans of old once swore by the decrees and dogmas of their teacher. But in this greatest of cities, when ^B your pupils adorn and administer the law courts, preside over the senatorial councils, lead embassies to foreign nations, and occupy various high offices, and each one of them performs the duties of his position everywhere in the best possible way, you can quite easily and without any trouble lead them all, as if they were suspended from your ears, to your own will. Most of them are openly hostile to Palamas and his followers, as to men who are far removed from the truth and from traditional doctrines and laws, while others secretly mutter and rail against them. In short, to speak briefly, there is almost no one whose mind has not been stirred and shaken on your account regarding the present issue. And because of this, they fear that a civil dissension might arise—a fear which pertains to you no more than if someone were to say that stone and bronze statues were moving of their own accord to arms and battle; to them, however, such fears are very pertinent. For to those who commit crimes, the conscience becomes a sort of executioner and inexorable avenger, by which the soul is whipped as though by an axe, and all sorts of terrors are cast into their thoughts, so that they suspect things that are not suspicious and have nothing in them to be feared, affected by the same state of mind as those who happen to be wandering in desolate places and defiles in a dark and murky night: for they take a bush, or a stone, or a leaf of an oak tree moved by a slight breeze for the approach of robbers and wild beasts, and they shudder, surrounded on all sides by a totally false fear. There are, moreover, others who say that this is the reason why they do not wish to hold more than those three councils nor subject the charges to canonical ^D examination: so that, by not making them clear and plain to everyone, they do not incite everyone against themselves, and do not truly bring upon themselves that very fear with which they were previously troubled, by reason of a dissension arising among them. As for the fact that they do not disturb all their adversaries equally, they also say the reason for this is that it might not appear that almost all men are hostile to their perverse innovations. This, then, is the fourth reason they offer for why you are being baited by the ungodly with graver injuries. And they add a fifth, namely, that from their usual prophetic dreams and...

from their divining tripod, they had predicted that if the Emperor, obedient to their counsels, ^A should come and lay his own tome upon the mystical table of the altar, he would shortly capture the eastern and western parts of the earth and would secure dominion over almost every sea and land; yet you, having manifestly and most clearly spoken the opposite, bringing forward the word according to the Gospel voice—"When you see the abomination of desolation standing in the holy place" (calling the tome the abomination of desolation), "know that the desolation of the affairs of the Romans is at hand, and of anyone who is a neighbor to them"—they saw that the refutation of their lies and the strength and efficacy of your words followed immediately, and they were well aware of it. ^B It follows, then, that out of shame they hide themselves, and are not at all able to look anyone in the eye with a steady, fixed gaze, nor can they shout with their former impudence. Therefore, crying out, "Come, let us destroy him!" they silently prepare their hands against you, arranging one of two things: either that, worn out and consumed by sorrow—along with the usual pains of the head and the ill health with which you are now afflicted—you might end your life, or that some of them, creeping in secretly, laying hold of your residence while it is in great solitude, might bring death upon you by a noose, with no one perceiving it—a thing which they say even the Patriarch Paul long ago suffered at the hands of men endowed with equal wickedness, as did many others before and after him. ^C For they say this is much more violent and far more expeditious than the cup of hemlock, by drinking which Socrates of old, condemned by the sons of the Athenians, departed from this life in the presence of his friends. And they say that this is the reason which has driven these men to place you in such solitude, namely, so that they may securely perpetrate what such murderers ought to perpetrate. Come then, if it is your will to reveal some secret to some of your friends from time to time, entrust it to me before you are ensnared in such snares of death; for I will be a faithful Pylades to you, I will be a guardian of those things which must be kept, not disclosed. ^D For one of two things will happen to me: either I shall die with you and this house will be a common grave for us both, or, if the murderers secretly repress me and force me into exile, I shall wander over every land and sea, proclaiming this injustice to the sun and the stars; I shall scourge with my voice the senseless hand of your murderers and, as if presenting a theatrical tragedy, shall recount the fortune of the Church and your own lot everywhere.

NICEPHORUS GREGORAS BYZANTINE HISTORY BOOK TWENTY-SIXTH

1. ^A Such, then, are the things I have been able to discover concerning the plots which your enemies have contrived against you, and the reasons for which the entire faction of your adversaries, panting for your death and contemplating various kinds of destruction, attacks you so vehemently. But as for the so-called "Tome" of the Palamites, and what doctrines and what manner of things are written therein, if I were to wish to go through them all, I believe it would require a great deal of time and a vast amount of leisure, completely free from business and every sort of trouble. For those who have chanced to hear them speaking about it say that there is nothing sound or truthful contained in it, and that absolutely nothing that has been said or done there bears any relation to what was actually said or done. Rather, they say that the Palamites have inscribed such monstrosities in their Tome and have acted no differently than would the inhabitants of the Atlantic islands—wherever those may be—who, because those places offer a great deal of license to those wishing to lie about their state and condition, would contend that they know our own affairs better than we do, without having ever seen or heard anything of things here, and would concoct monstrous and portentous tales. ^B In the same way, those around Palamas have acted and have composed such things in their own Tome. For they have set forth therein, with great arrogance, things that they wished to have happened but which did not, and things that they wished to say but could not—relying greatly on the opportunity of the time to lie unchecked, and confident that they could keep the Tome among themselves, such that it would not be permitted for us to examine it. They say, moreover, that Palamas does these things, among others, for the deception of the simpler-minded, and for the reconciliation of the bishops offended by him; and that he composes certain blasphemous opinions in new tomes, seeing that the bishops are able to know nothing more than that what was badly stated has been erased; but what force what has been erased or what has been put in place actually has, they neither understand nor care. It is said that he also brings forward testimonies from the Holy ^C

^A Scriptures, not holding them in sound health, but perverting them, here by incisions and alterations, there by misrepresentations, and by false interpretations at the same time. If you wish, I would not hesitate, now that you have leisure, to bring forward some things and lay before you the basis for a brief refutation.

II. That a refutation of the tome of the opposing faction, Agathangelos, would be most inopportune at this time, you yourself would not deny if you considered the matter accurately; for many enemies lie in ambush for us, keeping close watch on the paths round about, and many sit as captators of our words, as it were guards and scouts, seeking any pretext whatever, that they might insult us more shamelessly and at the same time deprive us of our present life, and seem to have rendered a service to those now in power. To me, indeed, death is of no concern at all; for it is natural, and if not today, perhaps tomorrow it will approach with uncertain steps. But since we wish to spare our persecutors, lest for our sake they stir up the divine wrath against themselves, it is necessary to be silent, especially since it has not fallen to us to have that tome in our hands, so that the refutation might be in every way firm and not weak or blunt. But as soon as the time of serenity shines forth and the appropriate freedom of speech—with God's help—is granted, then I, too, having obtained leisure, will lament my dead and will then weep bitterly for the crushing of my race, ^B seeking as it were with medical remedies to treat the inflammation of so great a wound as much as possible.

Regarding the bishops who are now in office, you should not be amazed that most of them do not know how to correctly assemble even the first principles of the elements; for in many things they are like little infants, but more crudely they devote all their zeal to divine dogmas. We must not attempt to lead any of them to a better opinion, nor enter into even the slightest association with any of them; for they are all full of suspicion. And to the same extent that they are blind and ignorant regarding what is noble and good, to that same extent they are full of deceit and envy. And they will most easily pass by and slander you to the rulers. For there is much, indeed, that prevents the malice and wickedness of all the evil-minded men of old and of new from being compared with the wickedness of these men. ^C And if it is not easy to discern this from a first meeting, or to immediately bring to light the votes of the court stored in the critical judge of the soul, so that they might be frank and impartial, yet by the experience of time it is possible to catch certain tracks, as nature produces, so to speak, faint indications—not by design, but incidentally—in which sometimes the tongue, inadvertently, becomes an involuntary betrayer of the hidden maladies of the soul, perhaps with some anger stirring the soul as with a breeze, or with some actual external influence and an unjust rush. For as many as are the changes of the body's colors and habits in men, so many are also the differences of the affections of the soul, which you may easily see extended into the infinite and immense, so that ^D

one could truly say it is impossible for knowledge ever to find a firm standing. For it transcends all the scholastic conceit of wise men, and clearly exposes to a vehement and sweet laughter all scientific and technical methods. For if there were even the slightest concern among them to investigate what might be the reliable regulator of the soul's secrets, there would be no more need for the external habits and colors, which teach us through certain silent voices—dimly at first, but perfectly as experience progresses—how it is possible even now to arrive at the primary causes and classifications of the soul's colors and dispositions, and to carry over and gently and gradually refer to a known standard the chain of continuous conjecture, and to support the subsequent steps of reasoning upon the first traces. ^B For even they themselves, because they have no basis within their own actions to boast about, have recourse to the manifest vanity of dreams, and in this they behave like those who write tragedies, who for the reversals and conclusions of their fables have need of some "god from the machine," since they cannot easily bring about a suitable end for false and irrational propositions and hypotheses. And these men, too, when they see that the outcomes of the false predictions from dreams turn out to be the exact opposite, blame again the ambiguity of the dreams. I would indeed gladly ask them how it comes about that God opposes their deeds and always turns the hopes conceived from their predictions into the contrary, especially when He grants greater and more evident power to the emperors for their impiety against us. For the emperors are deprived of their most precious things, the cities of the Romans and their public and private affairs suffer damage, and everything is, as it were, filled with shipwrecks and every kind of danger. ^C Yet God ought to have granted them prosperity of affairs and expansion of empire, as being the defenders of ancestral institutions and dogmas and the chastisers of the lawless, and not rather to have inflicted upon them greater calamities the more they intensify their persecution against us. For of two things one must necessarily follow: either that God should be deemed unjust, since He opposes those who are—as they themselves would easily style themselves—the defenders of divine dogmas; or that, being just, He acts well in manifesting His opposition to those who act unjustly, so that He might instill prudence into the imprudent and repentance for the things they have committed against us. But their mind, fallen headlong into dementia, has cast off all prudence entirely.

III. But since, being a traveler, you have not yet to this day read the impious books of Palamas, I shall cease speaking after making brief mention of one or two things of his, so that, as if from the fringe one might know the fabric, you yourself may understand how that most wicked man, from the more wretched presuppositions seminally implanted in his blinded mind, has vomited forth such a mass of depravity. For when after many courses some…

^A and with difficulty he had attained entry into Thessalonica, I omit to mention how many signs were heaven-sent immediately to mock and turn him away from that entry; for this can be learned from the discourse of anyone. But when, in the sacred temple, as he was performing the divine rite together with the other priests, it happened that the gifts of the holy chalice were spilled upon the ground, and all were astonished at the event, he bade them be of good courage, saying that if the blood of Christ, once poured out, was trampled upon by the Jews, it was surely no wonder if the same should happen by chance to this blood also, consecrated by men. You see to what kind of opinions he has long been addicted, and how he is caught in this matter as well. For he does not believe that the bread and wine, consecrated by the holy prayers of priests, become the true body and blood of Christ; but, just as he asserts in many of his writings that the Son is an inferior God and different from the substance of the Father, so he thinks that this, too, is inferior to that holy body and widely different from it, and that it is surely no wonder if this is held in contempt by us, just as that was once by the Jews, the slayers of Christ. This one point suffices to refer your mind to the primary causes and reasons for the hidden vices of his soul, and to place therein, as on a foundation, the subsequent order of contemplation. Furthermore, he has been accused of polytheism; for he said he was neither a Jew nor one of the Ishmaelites, that he might worship one God. Although I would wish to recount and demonstrate to you more and greater things pertaining to this same wickedness, and to explain what a mass of depravity these few things contain, I omit them for two reasons: ^B first, because you, being the wise man you are, understood this immediately upon hearing it, and will know it even more accurately when his books have been read through; and second, because I think it is now time that you return home, before the watchful eyes stationed round about and the harsh wardens of my lot take note of you.

IV. And these things were thus. The most honorable Agathangelus, having thus spoken and heard these things, departed by night, with none of my persecutors being aware. Then, having spent six months in this city and having consorted with those among the Byzantines who are distinguished by wisdom and glory, and having become well-acquainted with their customs, and having for the most part gathered into continuous order the many things he had heard before, he came again, as he had formerly, to report to us in succession what remained. And he shared these things with us.

V. The Galata ^C fortress, he says, having been blockaded by land and sea, and the merchant ships that brought supplies to it from the upper sea having been snatched away by the Venetians, as we have shown above, a year prior—and the emperor having subsequently undertaken that battle, conducting the affair with ten triremes from the sea and with infantry forces from the mainland—it came to pass that the Latins were pressed by a great shortage of necessary provisions. Wherefore the emperor, out of compassion

^A for those Latins who were trapped inside, sent envoys to them, through whom he promised with a sworn oath that he would let them go unpunished, whether they wished to remain there or to depart wherever they pleased, provided only that the walls of the fortress, which had been newly built, were first pulled down. To this, they responded with their customary arrogance, saying that if he truly worshipped one God, the creator of the universe, it would be possible for them to live safely even in an unfortified place, as they would have his sworn oath as a firm pledge. But since they did not know to which of the countless gods he worshipped he had made his pledge, they feared that, by having been deceived by the similar name and title of "one God" being brought to their ears, they might be plunged into that infinite vortex and overwhelmed by great shipwrecks of soul and body. ^B When the emperor heard this, deeming this a deadly wound struck to his heart, he sought, more than any other remedy, to bring the Patriarchs of Alexandria and Antioch—who had previously been won over from afar with gifts and were at that time sojourning there—to subscribe to the new and illegitimate tomes, so that they might in the future hold the same views as he did. Relying on their simplicity of character and their unlearned and unrefined doctrine, he hoped that by calling that particular and predatory council a "catholic synod," he might despise those who would reproach him in the future as madmen and not be troubled by them in any way. Thus, having no regard at all for divine providence, he trusted in his own knowledge to manage all things.

VI. When autumn was already at hand, around the rising of Arcturus, a rumor spread that more than a hundred Venetian triremes, having crossed the Ionian Gulf and leaving the Adriatic Sea on their right, were sailing along the cities of the Corcyreans, the Zacynthians, and the Peloponnesians, recruiting soldiers and the flower of the youth who were fit to bear arms, enticing them with high pay to serve in the war—for those ships were very large, each requiring a crew of more than three hundred men. ^C Upon learning of this, the scout ships of the Genoese fleet hastened as quickly as possible to Chios, intending to convey the news there and rouse their own men, so that, without any delay, they might cast off with their ships that very day and hasten with oars and sails toward Byzantium; for it was better to wait for the enemy's attack there, since the fortress of Galata would provide many and various advantages. Therefore, having immediately weighed anchor from there, they arrived with their full sixty ships first at the opening of the Hellespontic strait, and from there they anchored at Tenedos. Having spent several days there, they committed no hostile or warlike act in any way; but having requested and received supplies, they departed thence in peace. And by doing so, they gradually sailed along all the maritime cities of the Romans, until they came to Perinthus, which is also called Heraclea. Where, when they were met with neither kindness nor hospitality nor were granted the means to buy necessities, they ^D [index: entries preserved]

remained in frustration, waiting to learn from the Galatan fortress whether they had prepared a reception worthy of the fleet; for they had already sent ten triremes ahead. Meanwhile, some of the naval force went out and gathered vegetables and herbs from the land, seeking daily food for their bellies, because they had been suffering from famine for many days. ^A Indeed, the Heracleots, as if struck by heaven-sent madness in their understanding, instead of providing hospitality, set an ambush before the fleet at night, and at dawn they seized many of the Latins and killed them. This provoked them to sharp anger, ^B although they had intended to refrain from all fighting until they reached Byzantium, in order to negotiate for peace, and by every means of promise and gifts of money to win over the Emperor, and persuade him to reject the Venetian treaty and choose an alliance with them instead. Wherefore, for many hours, they argued with themselves, and it seemed quite tolerable to keep silent and overlook the irregularity that had occurred; especially since the naval and mixed-up anarchy was fanning and inflaming the war. Therefore, on the following day at dawn, the admirals ordered the trumpeters to sound the signals for war, and thus, all armed, they rushed out, surrounded the city, and having broken open the gates, ^C they took the city in two hours, full not only of its ancient inhabitants, but also of those who had abandoned the outer villages of Thrace due to the frequent incursions of the heathens and had migrated there, bringing with them all kinds of wealth. And indeed, the Latins poured in from all sides, and wretchedly enslaved all ages, whoever had not achieved their safety by flight. At that time, Coccinus, who had fallen heir to the bishopric of the city, was away; for this is what the pastoral father was called because of his fiery and savage countenance. He was then staying in Byzantium, where, devoted with his whole heart and mind to the new inventions ^D of Palamas, he took little heed of his flock, and was igniting the persecution of the true faith here, while promising the Emperor great and, indeed, ineffable things from dreams and I know not what sort of prophetic tripod—namely, the expansion of the empire and dominion over the East and West—which would follow the persecution without any trouble. But since the prophecy of Coccinus turned out quite the opposite, the Emperor was cast into great difficulties, so that what he had admitted and believed most willingly a day or two ago, he was now turning over in ambiguous thoughts and, agitated by the most vehement fluctuation of his plans, he was attempting to cast aside those trifles and heap many reproaches upon those not ashamed to be caught in such manifest lies. But the author of the prophecies approached him again, and by falsely interpreting the truth and running past the plain simplicity, he reconciled him to himself; he claimed that this was a power of some spirit of the adversary, which wished to extinguish the ardor of piety and fraudulently hinder the course of the persecution. "This is also a certain trial," he said, "instituted by God, and perhaps a prelude."

^A to the happiness that is to come, in order that you may not have your mind lifted up to conceit by the excess of that joy, and thus fall all the more from those things which were promised, and we ourselves be cheated of our great hopes. For those whom God wishes to raise to the stewardship of greater things, He makes more proven, training them in advance through certain small tribulations." But he was lying in such a way about the truth, and thus was shamelessly insulting piety, while he was ^B neglecting his flock, which was being most bitterly torn apart by the enemies there and cruelly despoiled night and day of all its possessions and wealth, taking no account of it, and considering everything else to be secondary to his zeal for the persecution of the faith; nor did he even seem to feel shame at this manifest refutation. For as the great Constantine long ago acted—for when he had apprehended those of the Jews who were then causing disturbances and attempting to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem, and had had their ears mutilated, he ordered them to be led around by flagellators and to have the rashness of their minds flogged along with their bodies, so that such a novelty and wickedness might not become a monument to many others—this same thing God has done here, refuting the impious shepherd of that city and making his predictions ^C look ridiculous, and displaying abroad the nonsense of those long dreams of his in the midst of earth and sea, more clearly than any monument could do. For just as Constantine disfigured those Jews in that part of the body by which they ought most of all to have heard and understood the predictions of the Savior (who indeed predicted the total destruction of that temple but in no way added its resurrection), so also did God then bring that man, who had cast the prophecies before the emperor like fuel for the fire of persecution against piety, into ridicule, and by splendidly tearing asunder his dreams and tripods, He alienated him from the pastoral office, as one acting in a way unworthy of God—with the events themselves all but crying out that the impious shepherd ought to be removed from his pastorate by the emperor. But when he, whom he ought to have punished, proclaimed him a victor instead, God now brings a common judgment ^D and a common punishment upon both, having given the city over to the sheep as pasture, and having dispersed the men, alas! throughout the whole world, so that all might perceive them to be convicted of impiety, and might recognize what the fruits of such evil seeds are, or rather, that they are the preludes to the calamities to come.

VII. Heraclea having been utterly ravaged and destroyed, it pleased the Latins to direct their course with all their ships to the mouth of the Euxine Sea and the ports in that region, not at a very great distance from the fortress of Galata, and from there to negotiate a treaty with the emperor. And indeed, when they had come, there were added to them five new triremes with men chosen from the nobles of the castle, whom they called "white-bearers," as once were the picked soldiers who in the battle-line used to cover Alexander the Macedonian with their shields,

^A so now these men were deemed to be called "white-bearers" because of the whiteness of their garments, and they were distinguished for the courage of soul which they had ambitioned to demonstrate in the impending battle, even unto death, having all bound themselves by a single public oath to spare their bodies not at all. These men were five hundred in number.

^B But because the fleet of the Genoese had been increased to sixty-five triremes, they sent envoys with confidence to the Emperor, offering along with other things for the sake of persuasion, and most especially this: that the Venetian ships had been led into errors and then, by the force of storms and waves, had dispersed and returned home. The Emperor, however, steadfastly expecting their arrival and being averse to the embassy with his whole heart, they, being frustrated in their hope, sent ten triremes to the Roman cities situated on the Euxine Sea, which, after a conflict of two days, captured Sozopolis, a very wealthy and densely populated city of the Romans, distant more than a thousand stadia from the mouth of the Pontus. ^C The Emperor, for his part, fortified the maritime walls of the queen of cities with trenches all around, and raised and strengthened the battlements of the walls in height, constructing and surrounding them with wooden towers and turrets. The Genoese, now uttering threats, now sending embassies regarding truces—and since, while those who were negotiating the treaty were wasting time with vain hope, they had begun to be oppressed by a lack of provisions—were forced to make a treaty with the Persians inhabiting Bithynia. Therefore, having sent envoys to their ruler and having offered some gifts and promised others, they exhorted them to join their arms in alliance with them perpetually; and if they should do so, they would receive great and manifold annual tributes.

^D VIII. While these things were being done, great sadness consumed the soul of the Emperor, as he saw that the arrival of the Venetian ships was being deferred for a long time. For, to return to the former thread of our narrative, those ships all first arrived at Crete, safe and sound, in the middle of autumn; there are said to have been thirty of the Catalans and seventy of the Venetians. There they spent many days, having brought in supplies in abundance. Afterwards, when there was fair weather, they set sail, and before they had completed two days of their voyage, they were caught in a violent storm in the Icarian Sea, the winds from the north already rushing more vehemently into the Aegean Sea. Then, having been separated from one another into larger or smaller groups, some turned back to Crete, some were carried to Euboea, and some reached the Cyclades islands. Many ships also perished, driven at night into shallows and sandy places and dashed to pieces. But since it was not permitted for them to return to Venice (for what is once decreed by the senate possesses the force of an unchangeable law, for it had been commanded by them that they should either return victorious or all be slain by the hands of the enemy;

^A seeing that a return by any other means would be punished by a most disgraceful death, from which no excuse or cause could possibly save them, they were under these same necessities, and accordingly, they all steered their course directly toward Byzantium from every side with a single purpose. It thus came to pass that of those triremes that had been scattered for many days, eighty-two gathered together, which after a short time reached Tenedos with great difficulty, for they encountered a storm again—a moderate one, to be sure, but a storm nonetheless. Remaining there for several days, they recovered themselves as much as possible from the calamity of the storms and waves. Then, with a favorable south wind blowing at sunrise, they set out into the open sea. Toward late evening, however, an adverse wind having arisen from the prow, they put into a certain city situated in the Chersonese, which is called Sestus. From there, after many days had passed, they departed; initially a gentle south wind was blowing, but on the following day it increased to such a degree that they were only with difficulty able to reach the islands of the Propontis with sixty-eight ships, as winter was passing and the vernal equinox was already imminent. ^B Since, however, there was no harbor among those islands capable of holding so great a fleet, all the ships floated aimlessly at anchor in the open sea for the space of two days and nights, while the wave surged from the depths and the storm never once subsided. It could even have happened that the Genoese, who for a long time had been planning and preparing such a thing, might suddenly have directed their course toward them, so as to attack them while they were exhausted from sailing. Such was the state of things. When, however, they could no longer struggle against the sea and the waves, as the force of the tempest would not let up, they weighed anchor and, sailing from there on the third day toward evening, they reached the harbor of Byzantium late and with difficulty, with eight Roman triremes assisting and helping them by towing and guiding them into the port. But before they could land, the Genoese triremes, which had long been lying in wait for them, suddenly sailed up. ^C And first, having readied their ships by twos and threes, they sent them on in advance at intervals against the sterns of the others; then all of them, with great speed and eagerness, made a fierce attack from the rear, so that the Venetians, although utterly exhausted by the sea, which was at that time most violently agitated by the waves, were necessarily compelled to join battle there. The Genoese, therefore, when they saw them now turning their prows toward them, immediately backed up their sterns and fled with the greatest speed toward the mouth of the Pontus and their accustomed harbors. But those who were pressing them hard from the rear pursued and struck them, leaving behind at the harbor four ships which had been nearly broken by the waves against the rocks jutting out into the sea. Along with them, those Roman triremes also emerged and inflamed and kindled their spirits for battle. ^D It happened, moreover, that they engaged one another in that place where two columns exhibit the appearance of a certain tomb. There indeed they joined naval battle with terrible intensity and the greatest fortitude; and in their ardor for fighting, the Catalans on one side, and on the other those five hundred Leucophori, showed their superiority, frequently leaping forth from their own ships into the hostile ones.

Now on this side and now on that, they were carried back and forth, and they performed rapid sorties and incursions, recklessly tearing one another apart, and sparing neither their own blood nor their own flesh, as though they were strangers', most cruelly and like wild beasts. And if the night, by coming on, had not shortly interrupted that naval battle, ^A all would likely have been destroyed there, both by one another and by the sea; for they were separated with no great willingness, each side withdrawing from the other only around the second or third hour of the night.

IX. On the following day, when the events of that evening were revealed, the Venetian triremes were seen at anchor in the upper region near the port called Therapeia, close to the temple of Serapis, while the Genoese ships were seen tossing in the open sea to the east, along the shores of Chalcedon, somewhat nearer to the coast. For they feared the western part more than the eastern, because there the Romans were their enemies, whereas here they had the barbarians as allies and associates, who, as far as they were able, encouraged them from the outside, and shouted with frequent and confused voices, as if with harsh cries, especially when they saw a multitude of Romans being brought down in the morning from the mainland to the sea by the rivers, to provide assistance to the Venetians and at the same time to collect the spoils from the shipwreck. ^B Each army had been affected by the battle with no small loss; for twenty-two Genoese ships were lost, and eighteen Venetian, the greater part of which belonged to the Catalans, who had fought more bravely and effectively than all others. For as we said above, falling upon the enemy face to face, admiral against admiral and sailor against sailor, and fighting hand-to-hand as though in a land battle, they caused great slaughter of the enemy, so that some ships, being over-weighted, sank with their men as they rushed blindly into one another in the darkness of the night. ^C Some, indeed, through inexperience and ignorance of the locations, were driven onto the shallows and into the reefs, and the waves pushed the men onto land, so that on the following day many Catalans were seen wandering in the land of the Romans, who, being unskilled in the Greek language, did not have enough understanding of where on earth they were, nor where they should turn to seek their safety. ^D Others were collapsing, their life departing from them due to wounds; others fell semi-dead upon the sea sand; others, having already fully breathed their last, lay mixed together from both armies. For as the ships were cast out toward the land by the surge of the waves, the men fell out, but they did not neglect to renew the conflict; rather, they opposed arms with arms and phalanx with phalanx, so that the battle there became twofold, a naval and a land battle simultaneously. As for the wounded, those who were able to walk, using others as guides for their journey, gathered in Byzantium throughout the day.

And they received as much comfort as was possible. But the crowd that had traversed the land to the shore at dawn, as has been said, included but a few soldiers; the greater part was a mixed assemblage of people from every craft, being equally base and devoted to rustic affairs. There was not one of them who did not bring home some profit and booty, for the waves had cast upon the land arms and missiles of all kinds, ^A shields, helmets, and triremes of both armies, indiscriminately tossed about by the sea. These were empty of soldiers and devoid of all steering gear and oars, yet they were filled with precious things and with corpses bedaubed with much blood.

10. However, after that naval battle, a common disease spread, consuming the greater part of the naval forces on both sides, so that a great many were dying on either side, which forced both to go into deliberation as to what seemed advantageous to do. It seemed best to the Venetians to shift their own fleet, even though they desired to intercept there the enemy’s round transport ships descending from the Euxine [Pontus], which were bringing provisions from the Scythians and the Tanais. But what weighed upon them and drew them away was not only the desire to take care of their own sick, but also the great and manifold shortage of the necessities of life which were required every single day. Therefore, having weighed anchor, they were carried from there to the entrance of the Byzantine harbor ^B facing toward the east, having sailed past the enemy ships which were positioned on the left at the shore of the land of Chalcedon occupied by the barbarians. For they too were likewise harassed by a shortage of provisions, and seeing how many of their own best men—those who had not met their end by the enemy’s sword—were being affected by the disease, they had anchored in the ports of the barbarians who were their allies, as we have shown above, in order to acquire food and to obtain many other great and various hopes, and further, to bury their own dead far from their fatherland in a foreign soil, unknown to their wives and children. For they had been so terror-struck by the enemy's audacity that they thought it insufficient if the barbarians should assist them as much as possible from nearby; rather, they judged it necessary, under their leader’s direction, to fill their largest transport ships, arranged in rows like towers and ^C walls in the front, with a great number of soldiers, who would hurl stones gathered on the decks and right up to the mast-tops against the enemy, so as to prohibit their attack.

And since they had a smaller number of ships than the enemy, and indeed the majority of these were empty of soldiers—having been destroyed both in the naval battle and by the disease that subsequently broke out—they were compelled to hire mercenaries from foreign lands and to enroll soldiers from the Bithynian barbarians, with their leader Hyrcanus allowing this for a large sum of money. Having therefore hired more than a thousand light-armed ^D soldiers, they divided them into two parts; one part, which was necessary to assist them, they stationed at the shore facing toward the east, and the other part

they sent with orders to guard the small town of Galata, both from within and from without, and at the same time to make frequent sorties and raids, ^A to plunder the suburbs of Byzantium, and to distract them so as to involve them in their own troubles, giving them no leisure either to aid the Venetians as they usually did, or easily to bring in supplies from outside.

XI. By this the Byzantines were visited with the greatest losses. For since more than eighteen thousand naval soldiers had been brought into the city, who stood in need of no small amount of food each day, it came about that, not only did all supplies in general begin to run short for the Byzantines in a brief time—they being almost entirely blockaded on all sides by reason of the battles, and cut off ^B from all other items that are necessary for the table’s provision, and even from the items which the neighboring strait used to provide to the fishermen every day for all time—but also that the grain, which had sufficed for several days, was now driven up to double the price it had stood at yesterday and the day before. Wherefore the leaders of the Venetians were cast into very great straits, as their time was consumed by an involuntary inaction; for although they were eager to repel the enemies, who were, as we have said, so firmly entrenched by land and sea, they did not have the means to carry out their plan. But most of all, the mind of the Emperor was ^C tossed by a stormy sea of thoughts, as he often revolved the dice of his own affairs, which offer a front of good hope, but almost always turn out to have the opposite result, as if deliberately mocking and overturning all his planning and zeal. And what was surely even greater, it was not possible for him, engulfed by such and so great storms, to be free even from his sons' misfortunes at that time; but they were already at variance concerning the rule, and this at a time when the situation was already suffering shipwreck and its foundation was resting upon rot, and it was being driven into a very, very narrow straits—when surely it was more necessary for them to assist their father and Emperor in every way possible, ^D both jointly and individually, and to cast all personal selfish interest into the depths of oblivion. For both John, who was the son-in-law of the Palaiologos by his daughter, and who had for a long time held the rule as belonging to him by paternal right, insisted upon it absolutely and would yield no part of the succession to anyone; and Matthew, being also a son, pressed his claim very vehemently, demanding it for himself as well, as if it now belonged to him by right of his father, now that the scepters were shifting according to the outcomes of affairs—outcomes that are always being borne along 94 in such a way, and frequently cast toward others, and steered by such inscrutable and hidden changes of life—and now bestowing the favor of their own eyes upon this one, now upon that, and again in the opposite direction and always alternating for each. This is the law, so to speak, [an unspoken] law, which devours the flower of affairs that is brought forth by the help of God, and cannot easily make a change of itself without blood or at least without violence. The snares of such plagues are therefore to be feared.

And it is necessary on this account that, before the time changes and cuts off the waves of the isthmus from both sides, the boundaries of each side be defined.

^B XII. The Emperor, therefore, when he saw such a surge of waves breaking in upon him at so narrow a time, was vexed and distressed, and was tormented in his soul by many and various pains. He had no one to look to from whom he might receive a word of consolation; wherefore he lamented his own situation and seemed to be leading a life that was almost desperate. He was always taciturn and did not wish to share the secrets of his heart with anyone at all. For he was accustomed to reject every counsel even before hearing it. When the Empress saw her husband afflicted by such great distress, she began to speak to him as follows: "That misfortunes do not come upon men, nor indeed do successes, without the divine will, I believe no one is ignorant of who has a share of mind and intellect and correctly understands all that is always coming to pass. That God is just and loves those who do just deeds—this, too, I think is persuaded to all whose minds are steered by the helm of prudence. For if someone has purposed with all zeal to pursue his journey by morning, as it were, but by evening is seen sitting as far behind as he ought to have been ahead, even he who is endowed with but little wit might understand that this is the act of God: He disapproves of that man's character and manifestly fights against all that he does, bending his endeavors toward an end contrary to what his beginnings promised. I remember, moreover, that Gregoras has told us not once, nor twice or three times, but very often in the long and various conversations frequently held with us here—which you yourself are not ignorant of—that the books of Palamas teem with great impiety. If we were to receive these and follow them with great favor and all benevolence, he said and promised that God, who is just, would not grant prosperous outcomes to any public affair undertaken by us, but it would come to pass that all would be subverted and manifestly corrupted, like crops by heavenly lightning. But if perhaps this or that affair should seem to us at the beginning to succeed in some way, he promised that after no long time had elapsed, most bitter evils would grow up in abundance at the end. We heard the same man asserting this very vehemently, so that he did not mingle anything of doubt into his manner of speaking, such as is usually present in those who fear the uncertainty of future time. Nor are you ignorant of how much we persecuted the boldness of the man who would not retreat from his words. It must be considered, therefore, whether perhaps we are doing these things in vain because God Himself opposes us on account of the dogma."

XIII. When she had set forth these and suchlike things, the Emperor said, "Woman, not all things,"

^A nor indeed the sum of matters, is it right to refer to God. For there is also a certain tyrant-fortune, which, of its own accord, sets upon human affairs, and constantly rules human life more than God does—an operation, as it were, called uncreated, but which has put on the manners of a tyrant and exercises its dominion over all things with proud impulse and motion. Come now! I will tell you an account, which you yourself certainly do not ignore, as a witness and confirmation that I have spoken the truth. For you know with what and how great gifts I have striven to reconcile God to myself, which I poured out with full hands to priests and to hermits, and to those who dwell in caves and mountains, and to those who lived in poverty and sickness, and that sometimes publicly and sometimes where no one saw. But those things brought us no benefit; rather, it seems that we have done everything for the winds, for calamities have descended upon us such as even the most audacious murderers have never suffered in their lives. From the time, however, that I became like-minded with Palamas, I also ^B immediately obtained the imperial power."

XIV. She, taking up the speech, replied in turn almost as follows: "But I, she says, will say a few things to you from our own human affairs. For tell me: if any steward of ours, appointed by us to take charge of a vineyard or any other of our possessions, were thereafter to take our dominion away from us openly, and bring us only a tiny portion of the fruits produced there, would we not hate him more than we had loved him before? This same thing, it comes to my mind, ^C should be judged regarding the one God. For if we, having been endowed by God with such great riches and such glory, should decide to reconcile Him to ourselves by voluntarily granting his dominion to many divinities or to some other operation different from Him, while offering Him only a tiny portion of His own goods, He would more quickly pursue us with hatred than with love, because we would be taking away more from Him than we were providing, or rather, taking away everything and providing nothing. ^D And it would be even clearer from our own affairs that what I have said is true. For you know that before we embraced the new conceits of Palamas, our affairs proceeded with the greatest success, as if aided by a favorable wind, and nothing hindered us by blowing against us; but although we were for a time subject to the rule of others, we nevertheless enjoyed more power than those who were ruling, and the glory of the imperial dignity fell to us more than to those who possessed it. For it was thought to be theirs, but in fact it was ours. But from the time we surrendered ourselves to side with those around Palamas, punishment followed 98 immediately in our footsteps. For, to speak briefly, we have straightway exhausted every misfortune, and all that glory, together with all our wealth, has fallen away from us just as dreams do to those who have awakened. And having attained the imperial dignity late, we are nevertheless fiercely struggling with adverse circumstances, for no other reason, I suppose, than that we are applying the imperial power not to the correction of dogmas, but to the persecution of those who speak of the ancestral faith. But I am not saying these things to you...

in order to reproach you for your lot, but to lament my own misfortunes. For you are no different from me; we are both parents of the same children, and you certainly could not deny that your heart is burning, if not more, then at least with an equal degree of pain, at their present circumstances. If you deny this, let someone come forward and instruct me as to what other reason there could be for me, a woman, in such cold as now grips the earth and the air surrounding it, and while such a storm infests our affairs, to undertake the troublesome journey to Orestias and Didymoteichon, striving to calm the crises, troubles, and waves—whatever they may be and however great they are—that beset our children.

XX. ^B When they had finished this conversation with tears welling up, they arose. The empress prepared for her departure with all diligence, while the emperor sent a messenger to Hyrcanus, the prince of Bithynia and his own son-in-law, to request that he grant no aid to the Genoese. The prefect of the Venetian fleet sent men at the same time to ask for the same thing, distributing some gifts immediately and promising others. But Hyrcanus kept them suspended on empty hopes, pondering two things in his mind: first, that he might receive money from both sides; and second, that while they were contending with one another, his own force could securely cross over into Thrace and Macedonia to make forays and seize any skiffs or merchant vessels that were transporting, according to the laws of commerce, the food and supplies necessary for the islands and coastal cities. He did almost the same thing that Pharnabazus, the maritime commander under Darius, once did when the Greeks were warring among themselves. ^C But when he learned of the crime recently committed against him by the emperor's sons, he became inflamed with anger and threw out threats in the manner of a satrap and, indeed, in a more barbaric fashion. The situation was as follows: the prince of the Triballi had sent an embassy a short time before, seeking a matrimonial union between his daughter and one of Hyrcanus's sons, so that the bond of kinship might strengthen the peace they had established between them, rendering the security of the Triballi more stable from that side. For this barbarian Hyrcanus had been raised to such wealth ^D that he did not only plunder Macedonia, Thrace, the Romans in Thrace, and the Mysians without fear, but also began to strike great terror into the Triballi, sending a hostile army into their territory and bringing back considerable spoils whenever he wished. The barbarian gladly received this embassy, sent his right hand of peace, and at the same time sent envoys to confirm the alliance. Yet, the emperor's son-in-law—the son of Kontos, who once had ruled over the Aetolians and Acarnanians—laid an ambush for these men as they were returning together with the Triballian envoys carrying great gifts with them, near the approaches to Rhaedestos, and in the manner of a bandit he seized the gifts, and in his first assault killed some of the envoys and took others alive.

^A And this once again was a terrible addition to the wretched fortune of the Romans. For just as when a storm arises at sea, a mass of waves piles up one upon another, so here too does one misfortune ever fall upon another; and before the first can be remedied in any way, the spirit of sin pours forth the second, and in addition to these, always greater and entirely unexpected ones. Indeed, even those institutions which seem to possess a certain and undoubted happiness, and which no one could blame for any reason or in any part, from morning until evening all lie overturned, and turn into the opposite state, and are most easily swept away by the avenging spirit of sin, snatched from our very hands, completely perfected as they were. And although we possess from many sides greater and more numerous resources for warlike preparations, we appear suddenly and by a wide margin inferior to our enemies at every critical moment; and, always full of good hopes, in a short space of time we never fail to reap great despair, as if it were the fruit of our actions.

This places me in great perplexity and engulfs me in many strange waves, so that I cannot even move my tongue any longer, as it encounters tales that grow worse by the day. ^B And if you were not to resolve these for me—appearing to my ailing mind like some Asclepius or Hippocrates—I would have no way at all to continue speaking; rather, the chasms and traps of these difficulties would force me [f. 6] to break off such a miserable course of words before I added to the heap of horrors. Come then, come, my dear friend, I implore you by God to explain your opinion on what I am about to ask. Tell me how it happens that, although many and various princes and leaders have committed crimes at different times, their subjects have not always been affected by such great evils as they are now, but by small or none at all. Then tell me how it happens that when princes perform the most wicked deeds, they themselves for the most part undergo minimal disasters, while their subjects, ^C although the majority of them loathe the wickedness of those princes and tremble and shrink away from it through fear, suffer the greatest?

XVI. Who, dearest Agathangelos, could probe the judgments of God? For if one could know the secrets of another, and all could know the inner counsels of all which are kept in the mind, one might, with some degree of reason, be able to pass an incorrupt judgment on each person’s actions. But as it is, we see that no one is able to recognize his own sins, because each is greatly blinded by an excessive love for himself, and does not know whether perhaps, as time slips by, wickedness might approach with unseen footsteps and consume his prudence, like dice-throwing changing it, and on the contrary, whether the nature fighting against wickedness might return to goodness. ^D And if…

ith unseen footsteps and consume his prudence, like dice-throwing changing it, and on the contrary, whether the nature fighting against wickedness might return to goodness. And if this is so, it will be very far off for one to discern another. For to God alone is this kept inaccessible and governed; he promised that the man who does well will live a most placid life, breathing peace, while he who acts otherwise will have the contrary lot in life. Nor is the difference that exists between good and good, or between evil and evil, the slightest or most ignoble. For we have recognized that the best and primary of all goods is piety toward God and incorrupt faith. For he says, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul," and again, "You shall worship the Lord your God, and him only shall you serve." For to serve another is to serve created things rather than the Creator. The difference in such goods will certainly be clear to you if you enumerate them in order from the lowest degree and foundation. But conversely, the worst of all evils is secession from God, of which a manifest sign and indication is the abolition of ancestral precepts and laws, which happens through additions and subtractions and, furthermore, the shameless perjuries of those who wage war with God. For no one who has pious feelings toward God burning in his soul would ever swear falsely by God. You could accurately understand this if you call the ancient Jews to examination, who, when they transferred the reverence of God to foreign gods, were immediately reduced to servitude by the neighboring nations, whom they were masters of as long as they thought piously about God; but whenever there was a pious prince among them, they were again superior to their enemies. And to omit ancient history, I ask you to consider Constantine the Great among the emperors, to whom, when he had transferred the worship of the gods—by which name they were indeed falsely called—to the true God, it happened that he laid claim to broader borders of his empire than all the emperors before him. But as for the emperors after him, who began to introduce the opinions of heretics into the divine dogmas of the faith and to swear falsely by God, whom they claimed to honor only with their lips, that great magnitude of the empire was immediately and gradually diminished by its enemies.

XVII.

^A a punishment in this life proportionate to the cause, so that in the future they might have a lighter chastisement. But if a prince, although he is the sole author of all the wickedness by which his subjects are pushed to total ruin, not only proves himself harsher to their miserable and afflicted state and does not even display a semblance of pity for them, but even assumes an air of haughty arrogance—thinking that because he himself does not fall into misfortune, this is proof that he has not sinned—he reserves for himself all the fiery whirlwinds of punishment there. For the punishment that could be inflicted here does not suffice for such great and audacious crimes, the penalties for which he owes both on his own account and on account of the multitude of subjects ruined by his fault. For, having received the position of a shepherd, he not only did not have the care appropriate to the flock, but even lavished upon it methods of destruction, showing himself to be a wolf rather than a protector and shepherd.

Furthermore, it is not permitted for us human beings ^B to recognize the wickedness or virtue hidden in the heart of anyone else, except insofar as we might catch some faint indications from outward appearances, character, and words. Yet, you might know it nonetheless from this, if we pass over many things for the sake of brevity and relate some of these matters regarding the emperor. For any prudent man will perceive from certain external signs what the state of his soul is, how false are the opinions regarding God hidden in his breast, and with what filth, not at all worthy of the dogmas of the true religion, his mind is filled. This is also the reason why nothing he undertakes succeeds prosperously; for God cannot but bring to light and display openly, even through external matters, the wickedness hidden in the recesses of his mind. And it stands as follows:

18. Concerning Nicolaus Pisanus

Nicolaus Pisanus, the admiral of those fourteen Venetian ships which we said sailed last year ^C against the fortress of Galata, having taken the emperor as an ally and of one mind with the Venetians against the Genoese, and having given and received terrible oaths, was wholly engaged in managing the business at hand. But when he saw the emperor sluggish toward the conflict, and occupied with all his zeal in other matters—namely, those piratical councils against us—he urged him more vehemently to act strenuously in the matter. For he said that nothing was less needed than delay, especially since military affairs do not receive even a brief postponement, but immediately demand effective promptness. Then, twice, thrice, and oftener, the emperor gave him the same responses with a very haughty and most confident spirit. “Wait a little while,” he said, “until I have destroyed the enemies averse to my dogmatic arguments. Then I shall rise and, like a nest of enemies, I shall capture your fortress, altogether more easily than you imagine.” Then, for his own part, with intense zeal, he wished to expedite our banishment ^D and strictly...

^A he turned to those ascetic men of ours, who by the footsteps of long-standing virtue and many years of asceticism greatly adorned the revered dignity of old age, and spoke thus: “I loathe your curses,” he said, “as much as I detest your prayers; and I hold Palamas’s curses in as much horror as I cultivate his prayers.” Then, having carried out those brigand-like actions on the spur of the moment, which take a long time to narrate, he set out for the war against the Latins, carrying his brow very high—or, so to say, above the clouds—because he had armed himself with such equipment for the journey. Although the retribution of heavenly thunder then chose to rest, with the Creator mercifully paving the way for His own wrath, nevertheless the subsequent time, night and day, did not cease to convict him openly by the very facts themselves, and to fill the ears of all with a certain loud clamor, and to reveal the impious notions concerning God and divine dogmas long hidden in the man’s heart, and the pride, the parent of that madness. ^B

XIX. I shall also add this, which likewise pertains to representing the intent of the man. It is one of many that I have omitted out of restraint. For the Empress Irene, his wife, urged me with many requests to compose, in her name, a speech of thanksgiving to the All-Holy Mother of God, inasmuch as their imperial entry into Byzantium and the end of that long and dangerous wandering had occurred in memory of one of her feasts, and it could not be acknowledged that this aid came from anywhere else but her. When I, being studious, had composed such a speech in compliance with the Empress’s will, the Emperor, upon seeing it, conceived hatred instead of love, because he did not attribute the whole victory to his own prudence and military skill, but to the Mother of God, as if she had brought him, he said, like a dead body placed on a wooden bier. I was truly struck by this and reproached his malice toward me; the Empress Irene, however, both with harsher words and then by her subsequent actions, showed how great a wickedness she judged her husband guilty of. For although she had intended with great zeal to celebrate a splendid and luxurious feast for the Theotokos annually on that day, she subsequently refrained and remained silent, not exactly predicting good fortune for her husband, ^C surmising that there would be no happy course of life in the West for him or his children. For this reason, the Empress’s purpose and will were then extinguished, and that feast, having become, so to speak, hostile, was cut off at its very roots before it could reach maturity, and was buried in the abyss of oblivion along with that act of thanksgiving.

XX. I could narrate many things similar to these; but, having judged that I must pass over most of them in silence, out of respect ^D

^A for the old friendship with the man. For I think it is enough even from these things for sensible men, and especially for you, who trace through such outward signs to the primary causes and determinations of the dispositions and affections of a man's soul, and who, ^B by calmly and little by little always observing and taking up the chain of continuous inference, fit the subsequent approaches from reasoning to the first traces, and immediately know from what root that wicked cultivation sprouts, and from what spring flow such shipwrecks against the divine dogmas of the Church, and whence even now the calamity flows so profusely and abundantly against the fortune of the Romans, as far as is possible for men; for that which is truth in the highest degree is reserved for God alone. Wherefore, seeing many who, if not committing great sins openly, yet suffer great evils openly, you ought neither to be at a loss nor to struggle against knowledge for too long, but to commit the judgment to God alone, who knows the primary causes of the soul which holds notions concerning God and divine dogmas [that are] very precarious indeed, and who by no means endures to cover in silence for long the silence of most people regarding these matters, of others as well as those who are seated upon episcopal thrones, who do not hesitate to agree with the magistracies and powers of the present age, ^C led on the one hand by vain glory and fortune, and on the other by certain temporary fears. For both sides willingly harm themselves greatly, both collectively and individually, exchanging eternal glory for eternal punishment. For if all, or at least the greater part, had combined into one athletic phalanx to defend the ancestral faith, they would have obtained two of the best things, and at the same time abstained from two of the worst. For they would have procured for themselves everlasting salvation, and at the same time would have made the emperor blessed, if they persuaded him to remain within the borders and dogmas established by the fathers. For since he could not resist everyone, even unwillingly he would have been driven into the bounds of concord, a thing which has happened to many others in different ways and at different times, and which has sufficed more or less for salvation. ^D In such a way, they would have been not only not excluded from eternal glory, but also most fittingly removed from eternal punishment. From thence it would result that they would not only always possess their own land intact, but would also acquire foreign territory, and would never be reduced to servitude by gentile nations, but would gradually obtain dominion over others at various times, the divine hand always graciously guarding its own inheritance, directing it toward prosperity, breadth, and magnitude.

XXI. But I, my dear soul, will add things that are similar, so that I may confirm what has been said more clearly, selecting a few for your sake out of the very many things which it has happened to me recently to have heard and observed with my own eyes. You certainly know that Symeon, who had the office of guardian of the laws in the turmoil of affairs, who of the Palamite mouth and tongue and law was just like... and, so to speak, [of the] band

a leader of the lawless phalanx—being, in fact, more renowned than he was in that throng—and who was, moreover, poor and struggling for his life against famine, he pursued those in positions of honor with various flatteries, making a pretense of a livelihood and providing for his own life, his children, his wife, and, to speak comprehensively, his whole household. Although, therefore, he knew that the doctrines of Palamas were allotted a destructive and foul portion, nevertheless, for the sake of glory and some temporary wealth, he was in agreement with the Palamite doctrines, as you yourself know better, and he displayed habits that were very much subservient and base. ^B Therefore, he never ceased enjoying those things he craved the most, but he was never satiated. But when, shortly before, he was in the final breaths of life, he lay for nine days tormented by disease and his own thoughts, during which time he frequently appeared, as if divinely stirred, at intervals of nearly every hour, to mutter something to the air, and he behaved as if he were being violently called to account for the deeds he had committed. And besides other things he said, he declared that he had been forced against his will into this heresy. Finally, recovering himself and, as it were, breathing freely, he sought out with the whole purpose of his soul whatever Palamite doctrines and books he happened to have in his house; and having gathered them, he threw them into a flame of fire brought to him by his own hands, speaking with such bold utterance: "Although," he says, "I was not ignorant of the great and terrible impiety with which these books are filled, yet, partly seeking glory, partly fearing the threats of the princes, and partly desiring to soothe the poverty that dwelt with me, I acted against all my conscience and submitted myself to such wicked doctrines. ^C Therefore, by God, I beseech and implore you who are present and hear my confession, that you be willing to pray for the salvation of my wretched soul." Having spoken these words, the man breathed his last. For many days thereafter, the matter was spread about through the city in the rumors of all, until it reached the ears of the emperor, who ordered it to be suppressed in silence. And that seemed to me perfectly fitting for the correction of the impiety of Palamas, had not the threats of the emperor stood in the way, or rather, had the bishops ^D possessed living souls and not souls deadened by the fear of rusticity, and had they not been so very willing, for the sake of glory and luxury, to assent to the authorities of the present age.

XXII. This one recent event, which does not conflict with your words, I have added; the second, however, is this: you know that the nation of the Rus is most populous and inhabits a very fortunate land, from which it possesses diverse riches, and nothing is lacking, to embrace everything in one summary, in regard to an abundant supply of things. Furthermore, it adheres to the laws of the true faith, never cast about by waves, with a simpler and less curious consideration, from the time it obtained the faith through its prayers. In these times

^A he also adorned the episcopal see, and having taken upon himself the guidance of the nation’s soul, he was—as you know—a man of understanding, possessing an accurate experience of divine canons and laws acquired since his youth in this greatest of cities. And to sum up: the associates of the Palamite faction sent new Tomes to him, seeking to summon him, too, to the precipice of their own perdition, as is their habit with all cities and regions. But he, having read them and having seen the swarm of those blasphemies and Greek polytheism presiding over everything there in a very domineering fashion, immediately cast them to the ground, and having stopped his ears against the wicked audition, he took himself off with all speed. And having written very long reproaches, with the appropriate refutations and proofs drawn from the holy Scriptures, he sent them to the patriarch and the bishops, calling those men polytheists and atheists and most impudent destroyers and persecutors of ancestral dogmas, and at the same time subjecting them to the fitting anathemas.

XXIII. And the writing sent from Russia was in this vein; and thus, while it did indeed refute those evildoers, it did not soften them. I wonder, however, how these men, although otherwise foolish, act so prudently in this: that before anything of the sort becomes known to the public, they suppress it with all manner of severe threats and terrors, and, so to speak, bury it ^C in a short time in the sepulcher of silence. They are imitating, I suppose, that wicked steward whose clever dispensation of money the Lord praises in the Gospels, yet whom He then sends away to the eternal fire.

XXIV. I would have liked to add a third narrative, no less than the previous ones, for the refutation of the impiety of these men. But because I see that you are taking this discourse with difficulty, I have decided that the mind must now be turned away from hearing, that I may receive some fruit of your tongue before some of the prison guards arrive to disturb and break off this quiet conversation of ours, and separate us one from the other.

XXV. You have understood my sentiment and counsel ^D extremely well through the external customs, most excellent Agathangelus. Therefore, while you are readily exposing the crimes of others with good words, look at yourself and know yourself. For it is enough for the wicked that they are wicked, and they derive sufficient punishment from that very fact. Furthermore, I know that the hearing is stained by certain blemishes from such things, and that it gathers a kind of cloud in the soul which is able to darken and dull that pure and sleepless quality of the mind, and awaken the passions of the soul. For just as the good is by nature laborious and difficult—having the sleepless devil as an enemy who, by night and by day, grazes upon the field of our thoughts and always shifts the form of better habits toward the worse—so too does wickedness prepare for itself an easy approach, as if precipitously headlong.

For the human soul possesses certain innate and implanted plagues, which in its union with the flesh remain, as it were, asleep. Therefore, although I could recount a great number of such narratives, I have passed over them in silence. Come then, having returned to public affairs, and where you left off the trail of the previous narrative, continue to set forth the events for us in order; we most willingly yield you our attention.

XXVI. You speak well, my dear head, nor should you have to grant me pardon or find fault with me; for I was telling you these recent events—which you could in no way have heard from elsewhere—not in order to calumniate, but because I deemed it the most beautiful contribution to history. I remember that you have often said that just as in music there is a union of various things and a harmony of discordant elements, and just as in buildings there is a multiform agglutination ^B of stones, wood, clay, lime, and other such things brought together to make the work, so too does history need such things. For a certain unique benefit redounds to those who read from both: that they might imitate what is good out of a desire for praise, and avoid what is evil out of a hatred for ignominy.

XXVII. But now we must return to Hyrcanus, the prince of the Bithynian barbarians; for there our narrative’s thread left off. For when he had learned what the envoys had suffered, he did not believe that vengeance should be satisfied by threats alone; but he not only cast about threats—insolent in the manner of a satrap—but also added deeds more savage and more insolent. For he commanded his eldest son, having crossed the Hellespont, to land at the Roman localities situated in Thrace; meanwhile, he himself descended from the higher cities of Bithynia with a great army into the plains of Chalcedon along the coast, where at that time the Genoese fleet was also anchored for the reasons explained above. From there, as from a tyrannical throne, he demanded the envoys ^C along with the money, and added threats to the previous ones that were much more vehement, promising that he would immediately cross over to the city of the Byzantines if everything were not returned increased by a great sum. Although the barbarian received the envoys who were still alive, and whatever of the money could be sought out and collected from those who had divided it among themselves, he nevertheless kept demanding what was missing most vehemently and proudly; and the more he received, the more he requested, adding lies and pretexts. Finally, he ordered his ^D second son, having taken another army, to cross the narrows of the Pontus with the Genoese ships and to join his brother in Thrace, so that with both forces brought together into one place they might ravage everything in their path and also infest the land with a Mysian incursion. His orders were executed by them most rapidly, and in a few days they departed, with an innumerable multitude not only of Mysians, but—most especially—of Romans, or rather, if the truth be told...

to lay waste to everything, and at the same time to make a sally and invade the land of the Mysians. ^A Once they had promptly executed this order, they returned within a few days, driving before them an innumerable host, not only of Mysian plunder, but of much Roman property—or rather, to tell the truth, all of it. For those people were also colonies of Romans, who, due to poverty, had migrated there not many years before. Because the cities there were the foundations of the previously reigning Palaiologoi and marked the borders of the Roman empire at that time, and because they had recently yielded to certain Mysians who had captured them, it happened that those who had migrated there from nearby—due, as has been said, to poverty—settled their lives there in the vicinity. Now, although the barbarian invasion had reached these cities, yet due to the forethought of the rulers of that land, it could not advance further; thus, it happened that all those who were abducted from there were Romans, yet they were called Mysians because they had for a long time been subjects of the Mysians. ^B After all the plunder was transported into Asia, the barbarians were unwilling to withdraw from there before imposing tributes upon the cities situated in the Chersonese, and compelling them to give some immediately, and to promise to give some annually, as if they were already masters of Thrace. But such talk on the part of the barbarians was just then spread about superficially as a kind of prediction and foreshadowing; it had not yet attained authority, since the Romans were not at all willing to reach an agreement with them voluntarily. Therefore, they themselves also refused to withdraw from there, but sat there incessantly, laying waste to the whole of Thrace by night and by day.

NICEPHORUS GREGORAS BYZANTINE HISTORY BOOK TWENTY-SEVEN

^C 1. As these things were so, and as Agathangelos had brought his narrative to this point, other cares—and these not insignificant—continued to seize hold of my soul and occupy it. For I felt many various miseries and anxieties, born of illness, creeping upon me at once and coalescing into severe pains in the head; and since the confinement was full of cruelty and neither any...

^A solace was allowed, nor did any hope of liberty or even a slight respite exist (for the beastly nature of the persecutors did not cease in the least, but rather they increased their dragging of men to chains, both night and day), a very great fear spread over me, as I pondered lest the death they were plotting against me might come upon me suddenly and unexpectedly, like a thief from ambush.

Therefore, when the then current night had reached its third watch—the time when the bells of the cells, clanging on all sides and resounding continuously in the air above one’s head, summon the monks to sing hymns together and to perform the customary praises of God—I again attempted to send Agathangelus out through the window in silence, just as they say Noah once sent forth the dove from the ark, to see if the deluge of God’s Church had begun to subside. And I entrusted to him these two things, which were most necessary. First, that he should seek out one of the holy men known to me and ask him for a portion of the divine flesh of Christ our Savior and our God, and at the same time several fragments of the consecrated bread. For those that I had at home had often been consumed by eating. But since, like bees with wax, it was necessary for me to act more stoutly against the plotters, I was striving to gather my courage; and I longed to make of this, through sanctification and holy communion, a place of fortress that might serve as ramparts, helmet, hair, and breastplate. These things, therefore, I first entrusted to Agathangelus. Second, that he should go privately and in silence to each and every friend and urge them to invoke God in prayer on behalf of wretched me. For I said, I do not believe they will find me still alive. Perhaps they will suddenly find my body, torn by the persecutors, cast outside for the dogs and birds of the city. For these things the persecutors have long since determined in their minds; even if not exactly in this manner, they vehemently desire that it should happen this way. And to me, indeed, these things seem like the first prize of my labors, for which I might be deemed worthy to be numbered among the defenders of the Christian cause; but for them, these things will put an end to their troublesome contentions and to the labors which they are perpetually compelled to take up through fear of my writings. ^B

II. The Consultation with Agathangelus

When I had said this, Agathangelus, having become deeply grieved and tearful, remained silent for a long while and cast his eyes upon the ground. Then he stood up, and embracing a new hope for my liberty, he asked me whether, in the absence of a priest to celebrate the holy mysteries, it was lawful for anyone to partake of the Lord’s body and blood with his own hands. But when he heard that this had been granted to the holy Basil and to many other holy men, and that those who had lived a solitary life or who had fled to mountains and caves during times of persecution had been accustomed to do this, he easily persuaded himself. Then he asked me whether it was lawful, clearly, to pray together with some of the heterodox and

at times, when necessity urged, to share in the divine mysteries with them, and likewise to celebrate the same prayers here and there. I immediately brought to his ^A attention John of Damascus, who advises us neither to follow the doctrines of heretics nor to grant them access to our own: “Do not give what is holy to the dogs,” says the Lord, “nor cast your pearls before swine,” lest we become partakers of their depravity and their condemnation. For if there is communion with Christ, there is necessarily communion among ourselves as well; and we are united by conviction with all who share the holy supper with us, and we all become one body, because we partake of one bread, as the holy Apostle says. If, therefore, there is disagreement in our conviction here, and as a result of religious innovation we are torn apart, how could we have one head, Christ, or how could we pray together? “For what part,” he says, “has a believer with an unbeliever? Or what communion has light with darkness? Or what fellowship has Christ with Belial?” Do you hear what God also says, speaking through the prophetic tongue: “If you offer me fine flour, in vain; incense is an abomination to me.” For to the sinner God said: “Why do you declare my statutes and take my covenant into your mouth?” For, as the golden-tongued John said, we must not only look at what is done, but also seek out the cause of what is done. For that which is done according to the will of God, even if it seems base, is best of all; but that which is against the will of God and does not seem right to Him, even if it appears to be best, is most base and lawless. And if someone should kill ^B according to the will of God, that killing is better than all philanthropy; and if someone should show mercy contrary to what seems right to Him, that mercy would be holier than any murder. For it is not the nature of things, but the judgments of God, that make them good or base. “Just as,” he says, “we rebuke those for committing lawlessness, so much more do we rebuke you for consorting with those who commit lawlessness.” And not only those who run with them, but also those who are in a position to forbid, but do not wish to. For if we do not allow people to go to the theater, how much more should we do this regarding the synagogue; for that is a greater lawlessness, because there what is being done is sin, but here it is impiety. Do you see how even that which seemed to be good once was proved by this holy man to be bad, and what a strong rebuke he directs from this against communion with the heterodox? For if someone, when the Lord commands it, does what he does, he suffers punishment ^C if he does not do it, even if no evil result follows. And again the reverse is true; for it is not by the outcome of actions that the decision of the Judge is likely to follow, but by whether the person performing them is in accordance with the commands of the Lord. For this is the will of the Lord: the laws and statutes for emperors and princes, for citizens,

^A and for the unruly multitude, are lords and rulers, since they ought to possess as from a fountain the power to judge rightly according to the laws. Many of the deeds, therefore, which are considered by themselves, escape the searching scrutiny of judgment and are suddenly praised by the ignorant as though they were reaching up to the heavens; but once the motives underlying them are known, they are immediately overwhelmed with a thousand execrations. But let me return to the words of that holy man: "What are you doing, O man?" he says. "The law has been violated, and you do not censure it? You do not become a stern avenger of the laws of God, but instead you become a participant? And what excuse could you have? For does God need an avenger? Does He need those who assist Him? No, but He wishes you to become His servant, so that from this you might show your love of glory." And the great Athanasius likewise ^B says: "Not only those who refuse to offer incense show themselves to be martyrs, but also those who are unwilling to deny their faith; and not only those who bowed down to idols have been condemned as aliens, but also those who have betrayed the truth. For Abraham the patriarch did not receive the palm because he was killed for God, but because he was faithful to God; and the other holy Fathers and those with them, of whom the Apostle Paul says that time would fail him to describe them all, were perfected not because their blood was poured out, but through faith, and they are admired even until now because they were ready to endure even death for the sake of piety toward God." Do you see how in minor matters the greatest virtues are ^C shown to an even greater degree—and surely even more in the smallest details than in the most grave? For just as he who adulterates royal coinage, even in a small way, ruins the whole, so also he who overlooks the smallest transgression of the divine canons does injury to the whole.

III. Regarding those who are expelled from the holy houses

III. Now truly, as it concerns those who have been expelled from sacred buildings, we know that some pious men, in their flight among those who are infidels—who were more merciful than the believers—have found refuge, and there continued to offer their customary prayers to God. Nor are there few among the men of the holy Church who have often fallen into such harsh conditions, so that, tested like gold in a furnace, ^D they might be a most firm example of constancy to those who come after, and so that they might receive greater rewards from God. For God Himself makes plain the path of those who are oppressed by persecutions for His sake, and guides their steps, and in those times makes the infidels more merciful than the believers. The example of this, above all others, is what we have learned occurred regarding the wild and untamed beasts around Daniel. For God easily converts ferocity into gentleness, and since we know and believe that He is present everywhere with us—David himself permits Him to be worshiped in all places of His kingdom—it is surely better in the open air, in the wilderness, and on the mountains to offer pure prayers to God than to do so with unbelievers in temples adorned with gold and splendid paintings. Hear what Saint Gregory...

^A says to his persecutors at that time: "You surround yourself with walls and slabs and decorated mosaics and long colonnades and ambulatories, and you shine and gleam with gold, not knowing that faith in the open air is better than costly impiety, and that three gathered in the name of the Lord are more pleasing to God than many who deny His divinity." And Elijah fled from the threats of Jezebel, and David from those of Saul, and wherever they happened to be, they called upon the Lord. And those martyrs of the truth, when they were persecuted, fled and hid themselves, enduring, but when they were found, they bore witness. ^B Therefore, you should by no means let your mind join those narrow-minded people who, through some cowardice between evils, let their souls become clouded and wonder how, in such times, the way of the impious prospers, while those for whom it has been granted to run the course for piety are allowed to be insulted, scorned, slandered, mocked, and, to speak generally, to hear every evil word for a long and uncertain length of time, because God does not wish to bring retribution quickly, but allows the coin to be tested in every way. But by reflecting upon yourself on things that happened in the past and by piously investigating and reading through each one, you will provide the greatest benefit to yourself and to many others. For you hear the great Chrysostom, the golden-tongued ^C among such doctors, saying that at the very beginning of his preaching, Stephen—who flowed like rivers and silenced everyone—after having spent but a short time preaching the Gospel, was suddenly seized and condemned and executed as a blasphemer. And James, too, at the beginning, from the very starting-gate, so to speak, was snatched away and beheaded to satisfy the Jews by Herod, he who was such a pillar and support of the truth. Do not, therefore, marvel if grievances are not avenged by God from the very start and immediately; for it is His custom not to loosen terrible things at the beginning, but when they have increased and been despaired of by the majority. You hear how Abel, being a just man, was killed quickly, ^D while Cain lived for a long time, so that his wickedness might be convicted all the more. And again, John the Forerunner had his head taken away, while the one who killed him, Herod, lived long, being put into reserve for the time of retribution, so that, having become worm-eaten here and having breathed his last in misery, the wretched man might thus be sent away to that sleepless worm. For through the things, he says, by which they plot, they dig pits for themselves rather than for others; for those who are plotted against have the inhabited world as lovers, as heralds who praise them, as crown-bearers, both those who know and those who do not know, both those who know from the facts themselves and those who know from report...

those who sympathize, those who struggle in concert, all who pray for good things for them. But those who plot against them are hated by many, and by much more they are accused, slandered, rebuked, put to shame, and cursed with myriad curses. And these things, indeed, are here. But what account could set forth the things there—either the punishment of the impious who persecute, or the enjoyment of the pious who are persecuted? ^D IV. Pondering these things, therefore, dearest Agathangelus, and irrigating your soul with such waters, do not wish to shrink in silence or restrain your tongue. Instead, establishing yourself as a noble champion of the truth, and becoming a good model for those who approach you, thus perpetually renew the colors of your soul for the better. Come now; it is indeed time for you also to depart, before the day, shining with morning stars, draws upon you, and lest you be unmindful of the assigned tasks.

^B V. When Agathangelus had departed from these things, I was left alone at home again to graze my accustomed solitude, with no one—not those who satisfy a man consumed by sickness and despondency, nor those already present to me, nor indeed any who might be expected after tomorrow, or the day after, or thereafter and likewise forever—except, of course, the one God who is always present everywhere and cares for all things. And He, having at that time wrought a moderate relief for me from the ailment, caused me, as was my custom, to give the history of events in extemporaneous notes, according to the habit we had before, when it was permitted to enjoy great freedom in managing our intentions. Even if not entirely and as was proper, still, as much as it was permitted to me, while caught in the midst of the greatest calamities and manifold anxieties, to enjoy the helping hand of Almighty God—who did not cease to assist me and lift my burdens—I accomplished as much by writing. For His presence caused men to be astonished at my work as a sort of miracle. For it came to pass, beyond all expectation, that from contrary things, contrary results fell out optimally, and the storms and turbulent agitations of the eternal world of affairs were transformed, so to speak, into what they call "alcyonid" calm and tranquility. For there is a creature that lives in both air and water, called the alcyon. When the time comes to beget young, it builds its nest in the sea sand in the depth of winter and with the raging violence of the waves. Those who experience from the miraculous confess that this creature enjoys such providence from above, that even when the sea is lashed by the winds from the north and is whipped about, and when it is the season for the waves to rival the Olympus and Caucasus ranges and whatever is higher among earthly mountains, the affairs go contrary to this, and something miraculous is seen occurring through providence. For the ferocity of those winds is calmed, and the raging mass of the waves is calmed, bridled by ineffable, masterful bonds, until the alcyon’s fledglings have sprouted feathers and can immediately attempt their flight. I also experienced similar things during that span of time through the aid of God. For while my persecutors were repeatedly circling round me, bound in the name of Christ...

both by night and day, lying in wait and rousing against me all the madness of their judgment and tongue—like roaring and barking beasts—and would neither allow anyone at all to bring me any necessities from anywhere, nor permit anyone to live inside with me or come in from the outside to visit, by the unspeakable providence of God I escaped—having almost committed the whole history of what occurred to writing in a short interval of time—neither leaving out much of what was necessary, nor mixing in much that seemed to some to be superfluous, but using a very simple manner of narration. ^B Indeed, it behooved me, I suppose, to examine more authoritatively, as it seems to me, the matters of the dogmatic thesis and what had happened in those predatory councils, and to multiply, in some manner, the intricate methods of the arguments, at once circling back and frequently interweaving them, and at times mightily repelling and driving off the darts of my adversaries, and at times enchanting [their intentions] with a more opportune and truly safe cast of our own, directed against them. For it is necessary for us, as it is for generals in such a position, not only to have eyes in front of our eyes, but even on our backs, wherever it might be easier for the enemy to strike, and especially where the enemy is hurrying to pour out the whole of his design against us. But ^C at that time, there was no one present with me of those who were accustomed to assist me in dictating my writings, nor in, nor anyone at all who ought to have taken part with me in these dogmatic contests and deliberations; and this I lamented most at this time because of the disease in my eyes and my entire head, and the distress of my inner soul. [127 A] For I pass over the fact that, having been suddenly led into custody, it did not fall to my lot to obtain good paper, and thus, buffeted by those waves and with the roar of them crashing against me, I was not even permitted to utter a few words with my mouth, but was compelled by necessity to check my tongue and consign myself to the sleep of Endymion in hopelessness. Yet I would never have taken this amiss had I not feared that my piety would be buried under the accusations of the ungodly, who impudently attribute their own wickedness to us; furthermore, if I could have foreseen the final struggle for my immortal soul on behalf of my miserable body as an end to my labors. But if outcomes deceive expectation, and the escape from labors is more inequitable than the labors themselves, then the splendor of expectation is vain, and the confidence in enduring labors is vain. Wherefore, ^D I committed to God the course which I had begun, heavily laden as it was with splendid expectations, and I also entrusted the stylus to Him; whereby it came about that, beyond all opinion, I saw very much excellently completed in a short time. Nor did I thereafter concern myself with these further, but left them in the midst just as they were completed. Naturally, as it is agreed among the wisest of men, I do not deny that writings, like beautiful statues, must be revised by a second and third hand to be accurately fashioned. But since there was for me neither enough time, nor any quiet moment of an hour—in which I might employ even a first hand toward my own intent—how could I, who had been submerged in such tumults and agitations of affairs and who continually...

lived in fear of these persecutors, who ^A sat incessantly before my doors and shamelessly pried into every single thing, have had the freedom to subject my writings to a third editing? Therefore, I have been content with the writings as they were produced, however they might be, by the first hand, relying on the helping hand of God.

VI. When forty days had passed after the departure of Agathangelus, late one night I perceived a certain noise by the back door of the house. And it so happened that the night was dark at its beginning. For after the full moon, when the moon moves again from its center toward the illumination of its orb, it does not cast its light upon the earth in the first watch of the night. So I approached, opened that familiar door, and silently received Agathangelus, who had performed, explained, and brought back everything that had been commanded, and ^B had done so well and according to my desire. Indeed, as I wished to give him—exhausted by his labor and at times perturbed by fear—a place and time to catch his breath, there came to my mind, O illustrious Agathangelus, that which Ismenias, as the poet often says to himself, would say: "Now I shall sing to the Muses and to myself." And that song was one of thanksgiving. And as I found myself alone after your departure, I have written down in ten books, as is fitting, all that had happened in the course of time regarding both ecclesiastical and public affairs, and I have added them to my usual ^C book of the entire history of the Romans, having selected the more opportune matters of what you yourself narrated twice after my seclusion, and of what happened to me for the sake of the divine doctrines a little before I was confined; for what other study would be more fitting for wise men who are at leisure? I refer to the movement of the mind toward such subjects. For those who labor in life for the sake of uncertain gain and the accumulation of wealth find their thoughts preoccupied, and their intellectual soul is coaxed and lightened of the burden of their present pains by the hopes that hover in their minds—a process similar, one might say, to those songs of the Sirens, whoever they were, whom we hear of of old, ^D which by the gravity of their melodic pleasure bewitched and charmed the ears, leading captive, so to speak, whoever it was that took delight in that song, toward the...

foundation of death, exchanging one long life for a fleeting pleasure. ^A And the preoccupation with discourse carries with it from that very source the profitable utility that is always present, both to those who live and to those who die, for whom it might happen that they harvest it to their need; for reason is established as a constituent quality of a rational soul, with the same immortality residing in both and conjoining them very naturally into one, provided that neither of the two should wish to betray the pacts of harmony, or to shake off the noble charioteer and regulator of friendship, just as that Lydian Pelops of old once shook off the Argive Myrtilus from his chariot, in daring and shameless fashion [a] thus somehow holding in contempt the thrones of justice. As for me, having come to myself, as has been said, after your departure, I have composed these ten ^B discourses, with great haste and also with very great anxiety—on account of the fears that were lavishly flowing around and encircling us—in the papers that happened to arrive, and I have gathered them together with the other discourses of my Roman History, as the narrowness of the time permitted. It would be your task, then, for the future, upon receiving them, to carry and distribute them not only to our friends, as many as still remain with us running the same course for the sake of piety, but also to have transcribed many copies into one, with transcriptions that are identical even to the last dot and line, preserving them just as they are in the originals, and to send them wherever throughout the world our friends may happen to be, and furthermore, wherever in other places there might be nations of orthodox Christians residing, always guarding the ancient boundaries of piety in the simplicity of their mind. For I wish that the insanity of these persecutors who are slandering us everywhere be known to all everywhere, and at the same time the confession of our piety and faith. Which is also inscribed for me in the present discourses, having the following wording:

VII. I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible; and in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, begotten of the Father before all ages, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father, through whom all things were made; who for us men and for our salvation came down from the heavens, and was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, and was made man. And was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate, and suffered and was buried, and rose again the third day according to the Scriptures, and ascended into the heavens and sits at the right hand of the Father, and is to come again with glory to judge the living and the dead, of whose kingdom there shall be no end. And in the Holy Spirit, ^C the Lord and the Giver of Life, who proceeds from the Father, who with the Father and the Son is worshiped ^D and glorified, who spoke through the prophets; in one holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. I confess one baptism for the remission of sins. I look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the age to come. Amen. Furthermore, I receive and with my whole soul cherish and embrace the seven holy and venerable and ecumenical councils, and the other local ones which the holy catholic and apostolic Church of God recognizes and cherishes; and those whom these have received, I also receive; and those whom they have condemned, I also condemn, and I neither add any doctrine of theirs to those that have been handed down to us, nor do I recognize any that has been added by others, as by those holy councils

^A, receiving them entirely, neither allowing for any deficiency or removal, nor myself removing or tolerating that another should remove even a tittle or a jot.

VIII. I offer this written confession of mine, as a sign of my right and unswerving piety and faith, simple, clear, unadorned, and easily understood by all; I have not changed or translated anything from what is in the holy and divine symbol of the faith, nor have I interpolated any obscure and unintelligible dogmas of theology that would require interpretation—as if these might inadvertently hide what is being said between the lines and lead the hearers astray—but I have simply set forth those holy things handed down to me from on high exactly as they were delivered, and I recite the very genuine, naked, and plain words of the inspired Fathers. In this study and confession may I remain for my whole life, so that I may be deemed worthy to entrust my soul to God, through the intercessions of His all-pure Mother and all the saints. Amen. As for the Calabrian Barlaam and Acindynus, as it is not permitted to say more at present, I only profess this: that I accept whatever has been judged and decreed concerning each of them by the holy Church of God. But enough of this. ^B

IX. In accordance with my command, you have brought to me these life-giving and wondrous mysteries of the holy Eucharist, which, while I am among the living, provide me with both the salvation of soul and body, and the strongest protection against all snares; and when I depart this life, they will again serve as the greatest provision for eternal life and as a most true testimony of all those struggles which I have undertaken in the past and which I now undertake, as I have constantly professed that these are in very truth the body and blood of the Word of God incarnate for our sake, and not an image of these, nor the product of some incorporeal energy which they phantomically claim to be incarnated, and not one of the three substances of that only unbegotten and blessed, single substance of the Word of God. ^C My persecutors, who openly and expressly renounce these things, have neither shame nor fear of the heavenly lightning bolts. Since these things are so, I shall prepare my journey with these divine and wondrous mysteries to God the Word, who was truly incarnate, where the judgments of the true doctrine will indeed be revealed. But as for you, do not waste your effort in burying my cadaver, wherever you see it thrown to the dogs and birds. For I know that my persecutors have long since decreed this for me. Why, if most of the saints have not unwillingly suffered their bodies to be thrown to the beasts—and this, as it is indeed well known of many, even before the soul departed from the body, so that the body was torn asunder amidst the most bitter pains? Indeed, it teaches me, who am burdened with thousands of sins, to tolerate this much more, especially when they rage against a cadaver already bereft of all sense. For pleasure, pain, anger, ^D and fear, and whatever other movements of the soul there are, they either hold only the soul or they belong to the body

but for the body to be without the soul, and to be so of itself, this could never happen in any way. For one might sooner accuse insensate wood and stones of being steeped in joy and sensations of grief and such like, than human bodies bereft of the soul. Nevertheless, we hear that by God this is a proof of wickedness for those who see it, and at the same time a preparation of the fire that punishes there, but for those who endure it, whatever their zeal may be, it is a deliverance of the soul from charges. For this bestial seizure of me by my executioners does not seek anything else than a swift departure from this present life. For what was done long ago by those Jews, who in practice and by all the devices of their mind contrived the death of Christ, but in words ostensibly hesitated to enter the Praetorium so as not to offend against the bare letters of the Law, one might clearly see these very Jews of mine contriving against me. For fearing perhaps human accusations, they do not permit themselves to quickly bring the iron against my neck openly, lest they be caught red-handed as having committed murder, but instead, they contrive through all time a violent death for me in another way, fashioning it for their own presumed guiltlessness in this manner; for while creating an even greater evil, they treat it with irony. ^B But do you, nonetheless, not hesitate to grant me this final favor: take this jar and be eager to fetch me fresh water from the well, while yet the night, traversing the wine-press, pours sleep upon my guards. For in this way, at this hour, I am accustomed to act, for the most part, after fifteen days or more have passed. But as regards what you see now, twenty days ago, while I was fetching it at night, I slipped in the darkness and struck my foot against a certain stone, and because of the pains I have suffered since then, which are not slight, I have not been able to do what I have been accustomed to do for the future. And that is why it has rotted, as you see, and smells badly; for water, when standing, becomes diseased, just like all other things that have received from the God who created them the potential to be set in motion, especially now when the heat is at its most intense. For after the rising of Orion, the Sun—the ruler and author of the celestial fires—as it unfolds the heavenly cycles, makes the days for us excessively dry and scorching, and parches what is on the earth. Therefore, God’s providence also established the alternation of the seasons, and ^C produced others that are more humid and colder, which might diminish the excessive fires of the sun.

X.

^A and musical songs, as it is said, once he felt they were sufficient to quiet the tumultuous agitation of the mind which is stirred up by the nocturnal trifles of sleep, and to easily attune it to a cheerful state, whenever the autonomy of dreams, sporting more violently, sometimes casts them forth like a cold northern wind upon the serenity of the mind; especially when sleep, as it runs into the senses at a time when they are utterly unable to offer any defense, might allow such things. Therefore, it would be most pleasant for me if you were to provide me now with a subject for discussion regarding external affairs. For since our life is now, if ever, filled with evils because God is angry at the subversion of the divine dogmas, one of two things must necessarily happen: either you will announce to me the misfortunes of my friends, and I will weep as is natural in a different manner, yet I will address those friends through a community of suffering, even from afar, and greet them, as it were, with silent words, returning compassion for compassion, rejoicing with them, and marveling at the endurance of these men; or we shall hear of the misfortunes of our persecutors, and thereafter we shall perhaps take hold of better hopes even for them. For I think that they too, though late, have gained understanding and will be corrected, seeing now in deed the clear tests of their own offenses arising, and the conclusion of true propositions—which had been sleeping in the recesses of persecutions and in pitch-black darkness—beginning to dawn.

^B XI. Indeed I am ready, my excellent friend, to speak of whatever you yourself might wish to command.

XII. But it is fitting, my dearest Agathangelos, to first provide a proper beginning to the discourse, which I think would not be easily graspable otherwise than by calling the memory back to the previous track of those words, and by attaching the foundations of my speech to them like a chain, so that you might easily possess for yourself the safe resources of recapitulation for the narration of what follows. For it is necessary that we first inquire what the fleets of the Latins have done after that naval battle, while they were sitting against and watching one another; second, what Queen Irene did after she arrived at Orestias and Didymotichum, and was hastening to quell the quarrels of her children over the rule, before they, ^C driven by madness, could bring about slaughter against one another; and third, what designs that fanatical band of persecutors is concocting and plotting against us.

XIII. Since these things are well said, I have no desire to contradict you, my divine friend; rather, I will follow your instructions absolutely, and although I will not perhaps recount every single event that occurred in the interim, I will set forth for you those that are most worthy of mention.

XIV. For the captain of the Venetian fleet, being uncertain what he should do, since, contrary to all expectation, he had already stumbled upon the Genoese after the naval battle—those having entered into an alliance with Hyrcan, the leader of the Bithynian Persians, to whom, when they had been driven to the depths of despair, they had surrendered—and when he had seen them transporting mercenaries ^D with great security from Asia, who were quite sufficient for attacking and repelling the enemy,

he sailed away with full sails to Venice, having promised to return later with more power. He left behind, however, agreements for the Emperor to make with the Genoese at a favorable time, until both sides, having refreshed themselves and brought in more durable provisions, could more courageously meet the war that was to follow.

But when I had reached this point in my narrative, the next steps would be anything but easy for one wishing, as you do, to wrap up the story as briefly as possible. For if we do not add the causes of the things to be related, starting from the beginning, it would never become clear to any of the hearers, except that we would be the cause of better puzzles, providing a half-finished and incomplete service by our discourse.

XV. I, for my part, wished, most excellent Agathangelus, that you could have been with me ^B for a very long time and talked with me here, so that we both might have obtained consolation and mutual benefit from one another, in turn providing need for need, and receiving in turn from one another as was natural, until, if it were permitted for us to live, the season of serenity should shine upon us, and God should grant boldness to my tongue, and a word be given to me, according to the divine Apostle, in the opening of my mouth, to make known with boldness the mystery of the Gospel, for which I carry out my embassy in chains, that I might speak boldly in it as I ought.

But since swarms of persecutors are constantly standing around my doors, night and day, more cruel than any wild beasts, so that we are afraid and cannot have free voice to grant to you, nor you to me, nor I to you, except with the greatest difficulty and whispering for each to hear the other, and there is a necessity for the time being to be content with this condemnation of utter solitude, seated in the deprivation of all human greeting, living like those who sleep eternally in Hades; yet, taking heart in this, in the only God alone, for whom we endure these struggles as well, come, let us wipe away all fear like dust; and if you would but wait here for three or four days, present to us this table of narrative, longer and as complete as possible.

For they say that of birds, the swans, when they sense their end is at hand, sing then more lengthily and with a clearer voice than at any other time in their lives. Since, therefore, it has fallen to my lot, as we have said, to be encamped amid the ultimate perils of life, it would not be at all inappropriate, by stretching out my ears for a longer time with longer discourses, to comply with these final tributes.

As for sustenance, this bread already eaten and the water which you yourself just now drew from the well will suffice ^C for us. I, indeed, divine man, think very little, or rather nothing, of bread and drink, but your company thoroughly satisfies me and moves me most easily to render you service. And perhaps someone might wish this for two reasons: either because a living discourse, which the immortal mind produces, renders accounts of lovers firmer and sweeter to those who love, or because, on account of my desire for you, I value talking with you more, nay, most highly. But regarding this, most dear Agathangelus, enough now; continue the narrative.

^A XVI. I must, then, return to that point. You know, my best of souls, how, on the very day that same shameful and, for the persecutors, ill-contrived brigand-synod against you was dismissed, most grievous tidings arrived at Thessalonica for King Cantacuzenus—tidings that, as they say, went straight to the very marrow of the soul. It was as if God, the judge of that struggle, were setting forth the fitting prizes for that contest, as a proof of that wickedness and shamelessness, demonstrating almost in so many words, and immediately bringing upon them this moderate chastisement here, for the sake of the conversion of those who had acted lawlessly there, thus opening, in a manner of speaking, the gates of repentance. For they say that Palaeologus—having suspected a plot against himself on the part of his brothers-in-law and his father-in-law, and a changing and turning of their minds in many ways and after many fashions—immediately summoned to mind similar plots, which, as is usually the case, happen unexpectedly and in many ways to authorities, bringing with them stains and disaster, full of blood and slaughter, for those who are unwilling to pay close attention to the various turns of fortune and the minds of men. ^B Whence he was stirred up and immediately sharpened his mind to search for his rightful inheritance from on high of the kingdom, and how he might be able to live in greater security than the plots that some might devise; for he said that it is better to avoid the onrushing surge of the sea in time than to be caught slumbering and be swept away by the violence of the current. Therefore, for some time, he approached the Kral of Serbia, who was attacking him and threatening to surround him with the greatest dangers unless he were joined to him in kinship and friendship, and to be a future ally against the calamities surrounding him; he reached out his right hand, albeit late and with difficulty, compelled by these circumstances. It was agreed between them both—if it should be easy—that Palaeologus would give his own wife, Helena, as a hostage, because of the plots arising from her lineage, and would take in marriage the Kral’s sister-in-law, a maiden not yet adult, and daughter of Alexander, the ruler of the Mysians.

^C When King Cantacuzenus learned these things, cares more bitter, if I may so say, than death invaded his soul. He summoned Anna, the mother of Palaeologus, who was at that time being kept in Byzantium, and with her went to the monastery of the Hodegoi. There, before the sacred image of the Mother of God, he immediately promised that he would hand over to her son and his own son-in-law the entire administration of the affairs of the kingdom, if he would break the covenant with the Kral and return to Byzantium to his lawful wife. For himself, he demanded one of two things: either that he be allowed to spend his life in Byzantium with royal provision and dignity, and from there administer matters as far as Selymbria with the consent of his son-in-law, or that, for whatever remained of his life, he be granted leave to live at home in peace and quiet. And he committed this his own resolution ^D to writing, confirmed by a most firm oath and attested by the most true witness, the most holy Mother of God, and handed it to Anna. She, having laid aside all suspicion, accepted the letter together with that oath and sailed with the greatest speed to Thessalonica. When she had explained to her son what was sufficient, and that most binding oath—

she successfully persuaded him to abstain entirely from the agreements with the Kral. ^C

XVII

XVIII

^A XIX. When things were in such a state, Queen Irene decided to set out for Orestias and Didymotichum, so that she might, if possible, reconcile the young men to one another, as they were treating each other with deep suspicion and in no way possessed a bond of peace living together. She took with her, specifically, her son Matthew and her son-in-law, the emperor Palaiologos, and in addition to others, two priests to serve as witnesses, as well as Angelos, who happened at that time to be serving as a catholic judge.

He was quite young when I left my homeland at that time—not yet, if I am not mistaken, of age. ^B Yet even then, his nature for speaking was already excellent, such that we formed a high hope concerning his intellectual faculties. For among all those who were, together with him, students of your wisdom and enjoyed that instruction of yours, he surpassed them by far in the facility of his tongue and the sharpness of his mind. Now, however, if I look back at the time since I have been away from my homeland, I suspect that the goodness of his character has ripened unto better fruit, such that he has already moved from those preludes to a good maturity. Wherefore, seeing that the man enjoys the king’s company and friendship no less than the most noble men, I rejoice. Now, because of the excellence of his virtue, he executes the judgments of the royal house itself with a free tongue and likewise manages the deliberations and decrees of public affairs. And since throughout his whole life he has always examined matters rightly and without fraud in the balance, as they call it, of justice, he has stirred greater wonder among men than that just Aristides of old, and he is on the lips of all; his fame has spread not only among his fellow citizens, but even among neighboring nations, and he has imbued all alike with the reverence of his modesty.

For this reason, when the queen was setting out for Didymotichum, she chose to have him as an escort, so that he, being present there as a hearer and eyewitness, might be an unimpeachable witness of both what was to be said and what was to be done. Having arrived there, the queen said everything that she supposed to be most apt for persuasion; and where she could not severely rebuke the young emperor, she treated him in a friendly and gentle manner, such that she rebuked him in the manner of a mother. To summarize the matter, she desired this: that her son-in-law, the emperor Palaiologos, should of his own accord grant to his brother-in-law Matthew supreme authority over the region extending from Orestias as far as Bizye, together with the places and cities situated on either side; that he himself should undertake to administer the region from Didymotichum as far as Thessalonica; and that their common father, the Emperor Cantacuzenus, should possess all the remaining regions, ^C together with imperial power, until his death, and that then Palaiologos should become the successor to this empire.

“It is right for you, therefore,” she said, “to entrust everything to Cantacuzenus as to a father experienced in the affairs of the state, and above all the imperial power, so that he might lighten your labors, should you one day come to the helm of affairs, and that he might settle them for you as much as possible before you yourself taste of the troubles of state. Do not, therefore, ever turn your dangers against the son’s kingdom, which has been granted to him because of your kinship. For why, you who together with your mother acted against him in a hostile manner, nevertheless, after you were taken into custody according to the laws of war, and then unexpectedly liberated, should you— ^D

as the successor to the kingdom, to the exclusion of his own sons. Away with such thoughts; do not entertain them. Furthermore, you must observe those grave oaths by which both your mother and you are bound, and which were for that reason transmitted to you in writing, that you should not act against him with a hostile mind or with arms, but rather that you should value his counsel—that of your father-in-law—as something paramount, and that you should direct your own character and plans toward his life and words as if toward the true archetype of a royal image. ^B

XX. When Empress Irene had said these things to the emperor and her son-in-law, Palaiologos, he replied to her as follows: "Many things, Mother, seem simple at the outset and are neglected by us, which however in reality require careful and accurate examination; so that those who, deceived by the simplicity with which matters are conducted, have not looked out for themselves, may be overwhelmed by many dangers, ^C just like a spider, which, though it holds its body, its threads, and its movements all in the air, lies in wait for the small creatures that might catch on its threads. Just so, when I saw my brother Matthew resting and not looking, under the pretense of seizing supreme power, for a convenient time for my own death, I did not wish to disturb the pleasure of his tranquility, and any plan or action of his I have until now gladly passed over in silence. But now it disturbs me vehemently as often as he claims for himself something regarding royal power; what those oaths forbid, he now does freely, adding ^D silence and bit by bit one thing to another, all but staging my own destruction in front of my very doors. If these things were just, why did you not set them forth in those documents which you just mentioned, and for violating which you have so dexterously cast reproach upon me? Why, if he kept quiet at that time out of respect for the laws, why does he not rather maintain respect now, when he is breaking those oaths and seizing with a certain unbridled license what the laws forbid? Moreover, he does this with his father as an accomplice. For he who has knowledge of things discovered, but does not oppose them, must himself also be held guilty. He, therefore, who confirmed with an oath that he also wished to be a father to me, lays traps for my life. For the license ^D which he at first silently grants his son, he soon after assists with his deeds. Sometimes he intends a trick to deceive me, sometimes he attacks me in a hostile manner where it can be done in secret, sometimes he keeps quiet so that he himself does not fall into public odium, and sometimes, when the opportunity is given, he returns to the stage and proposes the plans he has long been hatching. Many misdeeds, which become known to us but which, since they seem unusual, do not show us the source from which they flowed, are most easily promoted in secret, so much so that not even he who perpetrates them has any clear plan, nor does he who is affected by the evil. Whence it happens that he upon whom the crimes are being practiced, before he knows whence it came, indicates the rest of the destruction. The experience of every age teaches examples of this thing, which many

^A who have been in this same situation of mine recount, and at the same time it exhorts both the young and the old to look out for themselves. We hear indeed of some fathers who have laid a blood-stained hand upon their children, and of more brothers who have defiled their swords with the blood of their kin, and who have bitterly danced upon the throats of their own flesh and blood, and most especially when the contest has been about the kingship, where it is said that the matter is one of tyrannical enactment, a self-appointed and lawless justice. I, therefore, am not the one violating the laws of adoption, nor am I he who tramples upon those terrifying oaths; rather, it is the one who is the protector of my life and of my father who has sworn them. What wrong, then, do I commit if I desire to live as long as it is pleasing to the Father and permitted by Him who created me? For the laws do not punish those who desire to live securely, but rather those who, mixing tyrannical cruelty with a pretense of friendship, have applied themselves to perjury and to the slaughter of those whom they swore they wished to love. For that which we can desire without being punished renders us guilty toward another. Would that I were dead, and that you had traded my blood for your own safety, and that a little dust had covered this wretched body of mine before I was overwhelmed by such great dangers! For to meet an inglorious death once is far preferable to preserving the futile glory of a kingdom. ^B For many and varied dangers are present to this, filled with a thousand terrors of death, which night and day circle around us and go before us, and like surging waves ever crush us; but that ^C brings an end to the sorrows of our inglorious condition of life. Even now, if I could truly pray, I would prefer that the earth swallow me up rather than be forced by you to divulge my fortunes now. For these things are so mingled and steeped in the outrages of my father-in-law that it is not permitted for me to recount everything. I also fear that by recounting these things, I may appear to be excessively heaping blame upon my father-in-law. For it is not only known to the Romans, but many other nations as well have marveled at what a pinnacle of power Cantacuzenus was brought by that blessed king who procreated my miserable self. For the latter was king in name only, whereas the former, in reality, exercised all power together with his mother, according to his own desire, and, before all others, he continually turned his mind in the meantime to the succession of the kingdom and to my own state. Then, when my father had departed from life and had left me, an infant, to the care of my mother, there is no one who does not know what great miseries he stirred up for me and my unhappy mother. For he strove to insinuate himself into the series and succession of five kings. Before this happened, no one truly suspected it. He, therefore, neglecting the will of my father—a power he had long ago fashioned for himself in his mind—strove for it, and used that time which he had most vehemently desired to be most opportune for himself. I, indeed, when I had formerly heard these things from experienced men, could not persuade myself of them. But today, when I see the causes of those changes coming to light,

^A and the accounts which are brought to me becoming clearer day by day, I am persuaded that these things truly happened as I have been told. Now I understand how a plant, whose fruits long remained hidden, took root, and nothing at all remains of all these things by which what I am persuaded of might be weakened. For if he did not wish at that time for that which he was able to do, why should he not be able to do today that which he wishes? Or if he has the same mind today as he did before, what are we to make of those earlier seeds of wickedness? He evidently strives to set before our eyes his own covetous and strange inventions and counsels as if they were new, and to disturb the just order of things so that he makes what comes to pass by necessity appear to have happened by blind chance, and forces the waters of rivers to flow backward. But if nature had given him a tongue without a voice, he could most easily have hidden his counsels in the inner recesses of his heart; yet his deeds themselves cried out, and their voice sounded about our ears more heavily than thunder. Whence an incorrupt and more certain testimony was produced. Or let someone else tell me what it was that moved him, having forgotten our God, to enter into so many tight bonds of friendship with the barbarian and impious satrap of Lydia, and to make oaths with him by which they promised each other mutual aid even unto death. Did he not truly commit despicable crimes when the king and my father had died? For when the citizens did not easily endure his regime, he went so far as to declare himself a tyrant; but then, when he saw that nothing for him was proceeding successfully, and that he was Ixion-like practicing a mad love (for all were recoiling from his tyranny), ^B he sought for aid and assistance from another—not indeed from God, whose aid is most just, but from that most impious barbarian, in order to harass with the pillaging of foreigners those Christians who wished that I should succeed to the kingship. And so, in the summer time, with the army of those barbarians and enemies, he ravaged the regions of the Thracian cities, but in the winter he laid waste to the cities themselves, and plundered everything round about even to their gates, and led men into slavery although they had been guilty of no fault under the sun or earth. But in this scene it was most horrifying of all that the barbarians, after they had miserably dragged the captives with them, would cut open their bellies and would insert their own hands and feet in order to warm them. ^C Thus, they slaughtered man, the most excellent creature of God, as if it were a sport for them. Cantacuzenus, meanwhile, when he saw that miserable slaughter of his own people, was not moved in his soul, nor did he impress upon his conscience even the slightest sense of shame; but, riding up to the half-dead and already palpitating victims, and even stepping over them, he seemed to wish to strip off all humanity and turn himself into hard stone, with the intention that he might preserve his savage nature intact for future time. ^D If it were permitted, he could be compared to that Pheræan tyrant, who, when he felt his soul softened by the actor's sweet narration of Trojan affairs, just as iron is softened by oil, suddenly leaped from his seat and the actor who [had revealed] the nature of his own mind

he rebuked most vehemently, asserting that it was a disgraceful thing if he, who was always slaughtering so many citizens, should be seen weeping at the laments of Hecuba and Polyxena. Such was the monster the unfortunate Megalopolis reared against itself, and this, too, while knowing from afar that the ultimate ruin of both itself and its piety was the ^B result of his double-dealing. Wherefore, if anyone wishes to accuse my mother, who at that time was committing similar actions, it would be fitting to attribute the blame not to her, but to him. For he, greedy for injuries, violated the laws; she, on the other hand, defended herself against him so that she might protect the lives of children orphaned of their father, just as a dove protects her chicks by night, at the time when birds of prey fly out to plunder. But if any can judge more correctly of matters of this kind, it is right to follow [their lead]; for my part, I would readily contend that God stirred up these very miseries to send them upon him—I mean penalties for the king’s wantonness—since God does not permit even the slightest stain to be fixed upon those whom He has chosen for Himself. [f. 135 a] If these things be so, I would maintain that they are the very things which provoked God to bring upon him that great affliction, I mean the loss of the imperial authority, as He could not bear to see an involuntary defilement rubbed off onto the elect.

XXI. 162

the eyes of those who are considered fortunate for the present is the sign of a blessed life—that is, to be able to destroy pious men who do no wrong at all, men whom he considers unhappy for this very reason, that they venerate a tri-hypostatic Godhead, shunning both atheism and polytheism at once. And this is evident; for he considers the troop of Palamas to be his ally, and having used those wicked men as tools for his impious designs, he also turned them against me, so that this might be a sign of the purpose he had long been storing up against me, and a repetition of the confusion of his oaths; for through them he filled the city most easily with all manner of perjury and discord. For the men were quick to wickedness, and at the same time, under the blackness of their attire, they hid, along with their impiety, a quiver sufficient for such malice, filled with arrows of all sorts and kinds. These they moved quietly and with speed, while insidiously approaching the simpler good nature of my mother, who had never known the shipwrecks of sunken rocks. They wove guile and treason against her day and night, while outwardly showing a face of friendship, and they betrayed her silently into the abyss of her persecutors—men who appeared to us, upon whom they had bestowed benefits, to be the most base of traitors. But those who enjoy fortune and possess power for a time and destroy innocent men—whom he deems unhappy for that very reason, that they worship the Triune God, and who flee those who deny God or believe in many gods—the man himself follows the cult of the gods of Palamas. Whence it also came about that he treated me in a nefarious way along with those impious men. Therefore, from this attempt of his designs, which he had long been turning over in his mind, the proof of his perjury was made manifest to us. For by those men he easily filled the city with perjuries and discord; for the men were prone to crimes, and with a sad countenance and impiety, while secretly hiding the quiver needed for committing crimes, filled with various and suitable weapons, they accomplished that in silence and quickly. And by another way they deceived the sincere mind of my mother, who knew nothing of the hidden reefs in the sea. For they plotted guile and treason against her by night and day while showing the countenance of friendship to her face; and unsuspecting she delivered herself to the mob of persecutors. Wherefore they appeared as the most base conspirators to us, as we had conferred benefits upon them.

XXII. On the judgments of Providence, and why the pious are sometimes delivered into the hands of the impious.

XXII. Yet I am unable to investigate these reasons of a Providence that cannot be grasped, asking why we, who pursue what is just, have been so unjustly betrayed by the unjust. But those who wish to look at matters with consideration will find that the things which seem just throughout life, in truth rely on a cause which, like many other things, generally escapes us. Let the prophet, then, also speak, crying out from his innermost and full heart: "Why does the way of the wicked prosper?" Let piety also raise its grave voice, so that to those who wish to punish, these wicked things may not be a cause of depravity. "For the pious," it says, "are often delivered into the hands of the impious, not that they may be judged, but that the others may be tested." For the impious, as it is written, will pay the penalty after death; but the pious will suffer mockery in this life, so long as the justice of God allows it. After this life, as they say, there are cells for both, in which our deeds are stored up, and shall be opened; and words, deeds, and thoughts will be equally examined in the scales by God when He comes to judge the world, comparing our mind and our deeds, and bringing forth what has been stored up and reserved with Him. But what is it if he did not commit murder by force immediately? First, there is no reason why we should put forward what has not been done instead of the crimes that have been done; for he who has set fire to a house is not free from punishment because he did not burn the whole city. Furthermore, he will not escape the one punishment because of the other, but rather he will pay a greater penalty for both. For what he himself has now committed, that very thing opened the door to others. By his effort he led others on against the whole city, and he did not consider whether anyone would ever betray it; he granted a few things to others, but from that he himself hoped to gain many advantages.

^A Indeed, he brought upon us the greatest of dangers, and I would have preferred to have died before now than to serve others basely at this moment and to have before my eyes the various torments of death that are applied to us. For it is certain that life is more bitter than death when it is filled with a thousand tortures of death, whereas, by contrast, life is better than a sudden death when it removes and buries with it its shame and sorrow. For by word he indeed protected us, so that he might have a credible pretext of benevolence, which he advertised to every nation as quickly as possible with expense and through heralds and letters; but in reality, the prince treated us like slaves. He did this so that he might have an argument for his promises and show how great was his wisdom of life and his experience of military affairs. Just as victors in the hippodrome ^B take pride in their equestrian skill on account of their virtue, so he, when we had fallen into calamity, took pride in his own domestic prosperity. Of all these things I have the most certain testimony. He gave a bridegroom to my daughter against her will, and against the wish of my mother—for reasons which it is not permitted to disclose now—and where he least ought to have done so, he disregarded her and immediately followed his own intent. For he had publicly affirmed to us with a most solemn oath that he wished to be a father to me and to hold the helm of the kingdom until I had reached my twentieth year, and that no one of his own sons would dare to lay claim to the empire; yet not long after, he brought about the opposite, deeming those oaths he had sworn to be mere trifles. And indeed, having suddenly assumed the eyes of Atreus, he looked down upon me and did not value me as much as a hair, and he dragged me with him like a ship on a towline. ^C But he attributed the kingdom to his own sons according to his entire will. This, shortly before he seized it through the Barbarians, he handed over or at least intended to hand over to the hands of the Barbarians. Nor did he attribute the kingdom to them secretly, in such a way that he might stir up against himself the ill will of everyone. Perhaps he was ashamed of this matter, since a little earlier he had promised so much to every nation; yet he did it secretly, and in a way, as he himself thought, that I would not dare to inquire into anything. After a short time had passed, the rumor came that my brother Matthew was rising to sedition, a rumor which rang clearly in everyone’s ears. But Matthew provided only a spectacle; the mind of the father directed the things themselves. For so it was brought to pass that the father, for the sake of peace, by granting now this and now that to his son, gradually ceded all the signs of royal authority, except only for the jeweled headband of the head. Concerning this he had determined nothing yet, but he hoped well for what appeared from his promises and had already prepared that it might be accomplished. ^D But that I may pass over many of the things that were done afterward, and set forth a few things concerning this matter, in what frame of mind do you suppose I was, when, before I had even stepped out of my quarters, that man, carried along on a restless horse and with a restless spirit, arriving before my doors and sitting from his lofty seat, washed me with very long insults, such as one would be ashamed to use even against a herdsman? And since these things have been made public, you yourself will not deny this. Remember the triumph that the king is accustomed to perform every year. When you moved him, adorned with the royal diadem, to proceed with me in public, [f. 6]

^A but I, not bearing to be a voluntary traitor to my own empire and life, or even willing to step out of my chamber because of my grief (for I am ashamed to mention such theatrical absurdity), it happened that I suffered such things. And though it was necessary to rouse the common father to exact justice for the insult, he later harbored resentment to perform it against me, who had done nothing wrong.

XXIII.

^A Instead, he took my mother and decided to reach the palace of the Mother of God, so that with Her as witness and guarantor for the sworn promises he had provided, he might no longer appear faithless, due to the many times he had previously broken his oaths to his own kin. Thus, having received those terrifying oaths in writing once more, my mother came from Byzantium to Thessalonica, bringing me the good news that if I were to abandon the agreements with the Kral, it would be possible for me to arrive in Byzantium from Thessalonica, and that regarding my spouse, my father-in-law had conceded the royal authority to me immediately—one of two paths: either that I should stay in Byzantium with royal authority and administer affairs from there as far as Selymbria, if I were willing and if he granted it, or that I should live out my life at home in peace and leisure until the end. Having encountered these, I, too, was persuaded by the oaths; and how could I not be? Being a Christian, they are held in such dread and are so reinforced by such oaths. Whence, having departed from there, I went straight to Byzantium, having cast aside all suspicion. But since it did not fall out in accordance with the promises of the oaths—contrary to expectation in how matters transpired (for why must I recount for one who knows everything?)—within a very short time I returned to Didymoteichon with my wife. ^B It is better now to omit the preparations, counsels, and deeds that he has been plotting against my miserable life from that time on. Indeed, since I have now decided to live and die unjustly, everyone will agree that I am free from blame. Why, then, are you deceived in believing that I shall comply with your words? For I would gladly suffer anything for my life, even if it were necessary to prune vines for hire. It would be more pleasant also to enjoy private life in any land where no dangers threaten me, rather than to risk my life by seeking my paternal kingdom. Yet rule would be desirable so long as it brought advantages to the Romans. But may God multiply the happiness of the Romans rather than my own alone.

^C XXIV. Thus, when he had said these things and Queen Irene was unwilling to hear more, she returned to Byzantium without having achieved her goal. At the time when the summertime solstice was passing and the Thracians were busily preparing grain on the threshing floors and bringing in the harvest, King Cantacuzenus departed from Byzantium and, with those barbarian forces of Hyrcanus the son-in-law, girded himself to attack the other son-in-law, King Palaeologus. And at that time, twelve Venetian triremes sailed into Byzantium, which, having stayed a short time in the harbors there, sailed back again as quickly as possible and, spreading out to the right and left sides of the Euxine Pontus, wherever they encountered Genoese ships, they burned them and sent them down into the deep sea. ^D These things, then, occurred in this way. Now the course of the narrative for Agathangelus...

reached its end there, and at that time the summer ended and ceased. ^A

XXV. I, however, replying, said, “O good Agathangelus, it is time for you to depart before the ray of the coming sun arises. For it happens that my persecutors, who have been circling this house for four or perhaps three days, are successfully acting like bloodhounds in their investigation, and I fear that when they hear any voice within, you might draw upon yourself the same sentence of death as I. Depart, therefore; let our affairs go whither God leads, for everything hangs upon His aid and providence. ^B You know how close is the beginning of the coming year—it is almost at the doors—at which time, as you ought to know, the princes are accustomed to send to us at certain intervals certain learned men, whom they themselves fabricate as ‘theologians’ for us, taken from the shavings and stage and burrows and the *kordax* [a vulgar dance], just as the myths of old did with the giants. Through these they do not think it shameful to set traps for us in many and various ways, so that they may either commit fraud and turn the matter to their own will, or understand how they might more easily indulge their own lust. For it seems to them that we might either be consumed by the misery of this strange and prolonged custody—so that they themselves might not seem guilty of our death—or be handed over to a most violent death, so that they might soon be freed from the cares on our account. But these things shall be God’s care. ^C You, also, I wish to take care to do one of two things. For if, when autumn and the following winter are finished, you hear that we are dead, you shall recall those final words of mine; neither should what can be done be neglected, nor should just cares be pushed aside. For you know that not even one of those things which are done openly escapes that keen eye, nor even a footprint, so to speak, of all the things that men devise. You know, furthermore, what that future judgment will be, which cannot be avoided. But if you learn that we have remained in this life, you will take care above all of those things that are your concern, and God will help you to be safe, so that you may return to us again; and you shall report what the state of public affairs is and has been, and what the decree of that rapacious synod is which Palamas acknowledged; and so that you may show that the pious faith is not in the least laboring under disease, if not everything—to speak in summary—has vanished into nothingness from those troublesome books, you shall bring us the more worthy parts you have chosen. ^D As to the purpose of this, I think you yourself are not ignorant; but if you are, you shall know it.”

XXVI. When these things had been said by me, Agathangelus departed by his usual way, filled with tears and sadness. But I, left alone at home, was deprived of human consolation, yet not of God, to whom I turned myself as I returned into myself as much as I could, and toward an unaccustomed and higher contemplation...

my mind took flight toward a more elevated contemplation, allowing my reason to dwell in tranquility upon the hidden things of existence. For the greatest part of that year, during which we were still harassed by many external tribulations that had not yet been removed, was now spent; and we recognized where we were in the season of spring by the birds that flew about us. For they did not emit a harsh or discordant sound, their voices being constrained by the cold, but they proclaimed ^A freely, sounding through the air, singing through the groves, and perching upon the trees, they vied in a kind of concert with shrill and sweet voices. By this singing, the spring was made most sweet, so that even those who were shut up at home could perceive the first pleasures of that spring. By these things, also, the expectation of my soul for the return of Agathangelus to us took flight on high.

NICEPHORUS GREGORAS BYZANTINE HISTORY BOOK TWENTY-EIGHT

1. When at last time, having completed the winter of white old age, had received back the snowy hairs and the blooming face of youth, and had opened its sweet eyes in the pleasantness of springtime: our good Agathangelus came to us again about the middle of the night with quiet step. ^C When he had greeted us and sat down, he told us as much as he could about each of our friends and fellow-soldiers. But among other things, he heard from me that all the books of the holy Scriptures, which had been with me up to that time, had been carried off by the persecutors who had suddenly broken in, and that on account of the extremity of winter which was then present, it was inopportune for me to be there, nor was it very easy for me to procure anything. As for the water, being congealed by frost, I could not, as I usually did, recount how I was to bring it to a warm drink unless, when by chance the sun had scattered the dense clouds and ^D broken its rays through the window into this small room of mine—as into a dark retreat—I made use of that water for drinking.

^A And that man heaved a deep sigh and shed a great flood of tears. Indeed, to sustain him, I recalled his mind to more pleasant things, distracted him in the other direction, and requested a narrative of foreign affairs. So he began to recount as follows:

^B II. Having taken up arms, he says, King Cantacuzenus, once the previous summer had ended, set out to join in a military alliance with his son Matthew. For when he was about to fight against his son-in-law Palaiologos, he was taking with him scarcely sixty Roman soldiers, but more than a thousand of the Catalans and Barbarians. For he long harbored a deep-seated suspicion against the Romans, to the point of unutterable hostility, hating and casting them off as much as he loved and welcomed the Barbarians. And he was, in turn, as much hated by them as he was loved by the Barbarians, because he had assumed the guise of a shepherd, yet he willingly offered the flock to Barbarian wolves to devour, day and night, such that not only were the sheep shorn of their wool on all sides, but were even stripped of their very skins. For not only did they have to pay the annual taxes to him, but also to the Barbarians, because their vineyards and fertile fields reached right up to the gates. And some of them were led into slavery and transported in droves to Asia, while others who had fallen into the chains of the Barbarians were sent to the temples of the Byzantines, and to others condemned to the punishment of hanging, scourging was added, just as in fables, where leaders use the insolence of liberty for ignominy. Then, before he reached Orestias, the inhabitants of that land who were at enmity with Matthew encircled him and pursued him right up to the citadel, and were besieging him. He, having accelerated his journey, introduced the multitude of Barbarians through the citadel which had been opened by his son, and having burned some of the buildings, he easily captured the city. The citizens, struck ^C by sudden terror, knew neither how many soldiers nor whence they were attacking, and they suspected [those] evil [deeds]* that an unexpected perturbation of the mind is wont to excite. You will certainly weep when you hear how great were the calamities of the captives. For since those by whom that miserable city was captured were foreigners and impious, see how you might enumerate the sum total of their woes.

^D III. When King Palaiologos saw these things, and at the same time heard much and suspected that traps were being laid for his own life, it seemed to him most necessary of all to send men to negotiate a military alliance with Crale, the leader of the Triballians. For the Roman state had been so broken and enfeebled by internal conflicts that they did not even have [anyone] who was willing to rule either themselves or those who followed their rule, and, removed from external aids, [they could not] live as if in security. Wherefore Cantacuzenus, with regard to the balance of power...

*(Note: "those evil deeds" is supplied to complete the sense of the rendered Latin/Greek participle phrasing).*

ordered Hyrcanus to send a multitude of troops much greater than before, and to assemble another ^A much larger force from a nearby place. Two courses, therefore, were to be pursued: either that, when they had joined with the Triballi, they should launch a surprise attack from the march, having occupied the ambushes and blocked the paths before the others could perceive it, or, if that were not possible, that they should be the first to anticipate them by occupying Byzantium, so as to drag it to destruction and total enslavement, which is better than any defense. And since he needed money for these purposes, he instructed that all the holy ornaments in Byzantium, as many as were adorned with gold and silver and precious stones, should all be collected together so as to be converted into money. Thus, when a favorable opportunity had arisen for the king through the distribution of the money to the barbarians, he again openly set before the Byzantines the greatest terrors and dangers, lest by chance they might wish to receive Palaeologus. "For you will see yourselves," he says, "sooner than you think, in the power of the barbarians, along with all the citizens of the whole city, the highest and lowest, the illustrious and the obscure, together with women and children and every age. For you know that at the so-called Golden Gates of this great city, in those twin and most massive towers, I have long maintained a garrison ^B of foreign troops, which is the safest bulwark of the Byzantines’ acropolis. Therefore, if I should wish, I could easily introduce into Byzantium at least three thousand of their barbarian youth and drag you all, without exception, into a greater destruction than that which befell Orestiada, which I did not utterly raze. I allowed it to stand; which indeed I did more kindly and more wisely, or more humanely, one might say, than that Alexander the Macedonian. For he razed Thebes to its foundations, putting out the eye of Greece; but I have left behind the city walls as a monument to the misfortunes of a city emptied through the folly of its inhabitants, crying out to other cities, almost through their deserted foundations, not to do the same, lest they fall into the same calamities. For the spirit of a king, incited by the sharpness of ambition, can possess the helm least of all." ^C Such things he said, and with these words followed the preparation of deeds. For having sent secretly to the barbarian Hyrcanus, he instructed him to prepare twenty thousand hoplites with all possible speed. For it was thought likely that the army of the Triballi would invade Thrace to enter into alliance with King Palaeologus. "It is necessary, therefore," he says, "that I should follow with the barbarian army and, having quickly entered Byzantium through the Golden Gates, I should utterly destroy the whole city with its people. So that if I am not to rule, then neither shall he rule any longer, nor shall there be any left for him to rule in the future; and those who escape the danger, they too shall be compelled to return into your subjection." ^D IV. With these things thus prepared, not many days later, having been informed by scouts of the fewness of the numbers—for those Triballian soldiers coming to the alliance with Palaeologus were barely four thousand—Cantacuzenus quickly [assembled] the barbarian forces of Hyrcanus, well-instructed and...

armed, and numbering up to twelve thousand, to lie in wait near Lampsacus. These men, having crossed the Hellespont before the Triballi were aware of it, suddenly fell upon the unarmed troops as soon as they approached Didymoteichon, before they had even shaken off the fatigue of the journey. Some they slaughtered, others they took alive as captives, and they easily carried off all the spoils of horses and splendid chariots from there into Asia. For to the Triballi, who were entirely unaccustomed to the Thracian regions and moreover ignorant of the barbarian ^A manner of sudden assault, these things happened beyond all expectation; they were no less than thirty stadia from Didymoteichon.

^B V. Having heard these things, Palaeologus’s plan of action was thrown into confusion, and every hope of deliverance was taken away. For he had been staying in neighboring cities at the time, delayed for some other business, but on the following day he returned to Didymoteichon and fell ill from his grief. When he had recovered a little after a month, he went off to the coastal city called Aenos. Having stayed there for a short time, he departed from there by sea to the island of Lemnos, intending, while sailing, to meet with the Patriarch of Alexandria, who had himself sailed ^C to Mount Athos a short time before. They say he was also called Gregory, by the same name as that man who had previously steered the patriarchal helm of Alexandria most prudently—whose wise discourse I also had the good fortune to enjoy, when, having become a stranger to my own country, I was traveling through Egypt and Arabia, as I have already mentioned. That man, however, after some time had passed and the former had died, happened to become his successor on the throne, and now he had been sent on an embassy to the king of the Romans by the ruler of all Egypt and Arabia. ^D However, having heard after his departure from there that the affairs of the Romans were in confusion and that there was sedition over the sovereignty, he decided it was necessary to delay his voyage for a time until he could know more clearly which of the two contending kings had secured the power safely, so that the outcome of his embassy might not be vain and fruitless for him. He therefore touched at Cyprus first from Egypt, and then sailed to Crete from there, having stayed a very long time on both islands because the disputes among the Romans over the sovereignty had not yet ceased.

VI. Being already filled with weariness of the life spent at sea, he decided that it was better, once he had come near the borders of the Romans, to [stay], for two reasons: one, so that he might more clearly learn the true state of affairs from nearby, and second, so that as soon as the conflict had ended and one of the two kings had settled the government in peace, he might very quickly perform his embassy from nearby. Accordingly, at the end of the past summer, he set out from Crete with full sails and came to Mount Athos, being, as one might say, on the border of two domains, that of the Triballi and that of the Romans. Whereupon, when King Palaeologus heard that in the islands and territories, whatsoever Roman colonies happened to be...

dispersed among the villages and cities and living under foreign nations, they should celebrate ^A only his name—and by no means that of Cantacuzenus—in the sacred hymns publicly offered up among them, in accordance with the ancient custom which prevailed in the metropolis of the Orthodox; it was his desire to hold converse with this man, and once having learned this, to first inquire what he desired, the nature of his embassy, and furthermore whatever else he might have to say to such persons. For these reasons, I have heard, it was agreed that he should sail past Mount Athos and arrive at that man’s side as an incidental undertaking on the journey.

VII. While these things were thus proceeding, there came a certain man from Thessalonica ^B who reported other matters, and this besides: that Palamas had long been in danger of being violently and most harshly snatched from life, yet he was not snatched away, but lay incapacitated, suffering things worse than a myriad of deaths. For they say his belly had swollen to an immense degree, and at the same time his hands and feet had been rendered so enfeebled that, in regard to torpor, he differed little or nothing from stones, save for the fact that he breathed. And as his internal organs had burst and were twisted upward, they say that his biological system, through the chest, was forced by necessity, after the manner of the tide in the Euripus, carrying back all the superfluous matter of the belly toward the mouth and discharging it thence, and that for the time being, in place of the fundament, the mouth was serving nature for the reception of his belly's foul excretions.

VIII. Do you see, dearest Agathangelos, how the divine justice from above ^C weighs out the debt-payment for this man also, so that the foulness of his invisible soul might, as it seems, become manifest to all even to the senses; and so that both the unbridled and blasphemous mouth and the hand that wrote [the blasphemies] might undergo punishment here, before being carried off to that eternal torment, and that the portents of the calamities not yet known to all might be set forth before the public eye as a spectacle for this man, more so than for that man named for his insanity, Arius, who voided his bowels through his fundament. For he, having sinned with his body, also paid the penalty with the members of the body. But this man, since he had committed impious crimes against God beyond nature and reason, paid, as was fitting, a ^D wondrous and greatest penalty. For although he said the Son of God is the Word, and superior to the incorporeal angels, he maintained that He could not be perceived by the eyes. For he could not conceive that He who was placed above the angels and is the leader of the angels possesses a nature inferior to the angels and human souls. He knew that nature is in no way visible to bodily eyes for all things that do not have bodies, unless God, employing a descent-economy, fashions various appearances according to the modes of His ineffable providence, as the divine Fathers of the Church loudly proclaim here and there, and as we also, following them much and often, have spoken. But this man said that beyond the substrate, there exists light without a body, which can yet be perceived by bodily eyes. A matter which can agree neither with the laws of nature nor with the deductions of the intellect. He even called Him a creature, but

he did not dare to say that He was visible, mindful neither of nature nor of the intellect, which in no way allows the substance of an incorporeal creature to be seen by bodily eyes. This man, however, by calling Him ^B uncreated—something which escapes sight even more than the former—declared that which is entirely absurd and ignorant to be visible. For that which is uncreated is invisible, whereas that which is created is not... visible; for angels and souls and such things, being created, are by nature least able to be seen. And what is greater is that this impious man, having called that light in itself unsubstantial, did not understand that, of all things, it is most of all invisible and by this very fact tends toward non-existence. Wherefore, having suffered those things that are against nature and monstrous, he himself also, at this point, struggles forcibly to cast forth his foul soul into that violent and ^C endless punishment; yet he does not cast it forth, as God is merciful and perhaps gives him a time for repentance, so that, if not until now, at least now he might see himself half-dead and half-severed, or rather, feeling himself wrenched apart by the greater portion of his body for a very long time, and living to his own shame, providing to all a manifest proof of his own wickedness, the wretch might perceive what a storm he has inflicted upon the Church. From the ultimate manifestations and signs, one may infer the excess of the impiety of each one, which each in turn had shared with the other ^D here, and likewise the [fire] that has been stored up [v. supra] for each in the future, or however it has been stored up there in proportion for each. For the punishment of Arius in the present life had more of leniency in the one punishing, but the punishment of Palamas was far from leniency. For in the former case, the voiding of the bowels occurred before he perceived the event, rendering the pains light and feeble, which—with sensation removed—vexed the body in vain; but in the latter, the bitterness of the labors, combined with shame, depicted to the likeness of the sufferings of Judas those eternal punishments in the future. Whence it can be concluded, or rather known, that a punishment much more grievous has been reserved for Palamas than for that impious man named after his own madness, Arius.

IX. You speak well; for after the vernal turning of the sun had passed and Cantacuzenus was still tarrying in Orestias, Palæologus appeared suddenly, sailing around the strait near Byzantium with eighteen unires and biremes and one trireme; this in fact struck great terror into the soldiers of Cantacuzenus. For he had come in the hope, as they say, that his entry into Byzantium would be easy, having received word in secret a short time before of the event from those who had agreed upon the sign. But the queen, Irene, having risen up immediately—and having conceived a plan of action with a spirit more acute than is usual for the female nature—very quickly secured the approaches that were under suspicion from all sides, and suppressed the impulses of those persons still within Byzantium who were suspected.

^A Ten days passed in the interval, and Cantacuzenus, having set out from Orestias, arrived in Byzantium on this account. Because he had long suspected the patriarch, both for many other reasons and especially because of his friendship and concord with Palaeologus, he thought it prudent to make a test so that he might now understand his intention. He sent, therefore, and asked if it were necessary to yield to the force of the soldiers and the other senators, and to permit the proclamation of his son Matthew to be king, and at the same time to grant amnesty to his son-in-law Palaeologus. But the latter would not even suffer it to be heard by his ears, but repelled the request with harsher words; and on the following day he withdrew from the patriarchal throne. He himself took lodging in the monastery of Athanasius, while his baggage was transported to the monastery of Saint Mamas, which he had purchased for himself four years earlier. A short time elapsed thereafter, and Matthew, the son of Cantacuzenus, was proclaimed king in the Roman palace, raised upon a shield. And spring came to an end in these events.

^B X. When summer was already at its height, the rivalry of the Latins to prepare for naval warfare was again inflamed from both sides. For the Catalans, using their own resources and those which the Venetians provided them, equipped forty triremes. For the Venetians had long been accustomed, because of their shortage of men, to place all their effort into the accumulation of wealth. For this reason, they neglect and easily endure many and very serious injuries inflicted upon them by their own people and by foreign nations, lest they be dragged into either domestic or external wars, or become involved in causes that would cause them to lose the most abundant tributes of the whole year. And so, while they are inferior to their enemies in force, they are superior in results; nor is there any nation of the Latins that possesses such a multitude of riches. But if they are ever clearly forced by some necessity to contend with arms, they quickly buy over the minds of those who are closest to their enemies and all those who dwell around them with a lavish expenditure of money, and thus they easily draw into their alliance as many and as whomever they wish. And thus, being equipped with forces greater than all other peoples at present, they put their enemies to flight. In such a way, they had now also drawn to their side the Romans, who themselves had their own reasons for war against the Genoese, which I have frequently praised in previous books, and the Catalans, who themselves also had their own reasons for war against the Genoese, as will be said later.

^D XI. For there is a large and populous island called Sardinia, situated by the Tyrrhenian Sea. It abounds in high mountains and is watered by various rivers; the villages and towns that are situated inland or by the sea are very well established; it is surrounded by coasts, lakes, and ports. It had been held for a long time by the Catalans and is still held by them for the greater part. A little before this, the Genoese had captured two fortresses there by secret deceits, before

the inhabitants perceived it. This being known to the Catalans, it was thought to be truly grievous and ^A altogether intolerable. Wherefore, since they were ill-disposed toward them, the Venetians entered into an alliance with them quite opportunely.

XII. After, as I have already said, forty triremes had been prepared for the Catalans with all their heavy-armed force, it seemed best to them to cross over and immediately take the fortresses on the island of Sardinia which, as we have said, were being violated by the Genoese. While these things were being done, the Genoese fleet, with sixty-five triremes moored in its home port, was awaiting the enemy fleet. But when it was heard that they were setting out to Sardinia with their ships, they sent one trireme to scout, which with a swift course might spy out the enemy. This one returned quickly and reported that there were only forty triremes (for it had not yet seen the thirty Venetian ships, as they were stationed near another bay not far off, under the command of Nicholas Pisano). Setting sail with great haughtiness and an arrogant disposition and mindset, the many moved straight against the few. But before they arrived, the admiral of the Venetian fleet, having escaped detection, had arrived a day earlier at the Sardinian port and had himself joined the Catalans with the thirty triremes, which, as we have said, were large and ^B spacious and filled with a multitude of arms. And when, on the following day, the Genoese, having arrived, saw seventy enemy triremes beyond all expectation, a great terror came over them, and remaining far out on the high sea for a little while, they looked about to see how they might arrange the naval battle, and they immediately carried out what seemed best. For they bound most of their triremes together, as if with a chain, so that the spaces and intervals between them might not provide a way for the enemy, and they would not have any means from which to easily flee the fight. Furthermore, they removed some of the rowing benches from the middle, so that they might engage in battle as if on land, and might easily go out, come in, and pass by.

XIII. While they were occupied with these matters, a disturbance from land winds suddenly arose, which was at the stern for the Catalans and ^C Venetians, but contrary for the Genoese who were out on the deep. And now, as there were four large ships, burdened with their sails spread, the Catalans and Venetians sailed straight against the enemy, making their course with a following wind; the entire fleet followed, equipped for battle and with the spirits of the armed men vehemently aroused. From these, some were sunk into the deep sea, crushed by the transport ships, while others were captured. And so, in a short time, victory was won with almost no slaughter, the entire Genoese fleet having been plainly overcome, except for eighteen triremes which had managed to escape by swift flight. These things had this outcome, and the summer ended with these events. ^D

XIV. Now when the affairs of the Genoese had been reduced to this state of fortune, and the inhabitants could no longer engage in military operations, since nearly all their weapons, men-at-arms, and other domestic resources had been utterly destroyed as has been related, they feared that, if they were easily captured by the enemies, the survivors would suffer a cursed and most shameful destruction, together with their wives, children, and the whole city. They broke into sedition against each other, as various and diverse plans arose and were in strong disagreement among themselves, and in a short time they overturned all the ancient laws of their own commonwealth, surrendering themselves voluntarily into the power of their neighbors, having chosen the lesser of the evils. ^A And by neighbors, I mean those who dwell on the highest mountains of the Alps above them and live a terrestrial life; for a long time past they had acted in a hostile manner toward them, making war and plundering them at whatever time they wished. Mediolanum is the king’s colony, an ancient city and difficult for enemies to attack. And what makes this nation especially feared by the surrounding peoples is that its king is formidable and invincible, and the place itself, being by nature fortified on almost all sides by high and impassable mountains, usually keeps itself safe from enemies, ^B using but a small force. For while a myriad of cavalry and an incredibly large army is barely sufficient for others to ward off opponents, for these people a small force is easily enough, because of the natural alliance of the surrounding mountains.

XV. Therefore this nation of the neighbors, suspecting the pride of the Genoese and their mind strongly inclined toward treachery and plots, strove to weaken their spirits, a task it always diligently performed. Having taken this occasion, they easily compelled the surrendered to enter into a society. And when they had entered the city of Genoa and taken control of affairs since no one resisted, they took possession of many parts of the walls and fortifications, ^C lest perhaps, having seized an opportune time in the future—as they were always accustomed to do—they might pursue revolution.

XVI. With these things done, the intolerable burden of Genoese insolence was plainly cast off. And surely God inflicted upon them the punishments for the injuries which they had inflicted upon the Romans, and which they awaited from all other peoples in like manner. For having neglected all divine laws, they neither regarded divine vengeance nor shame before men. For when they seemed to see themselves in dreams as the masters of the entire sea, from the Tanais and Maeotis as far as Gades and the pillars of Hercules, ^D they were shortly ejected from their own fatherland; and since they treated the commonwealth unjustly as their own, they lost even their own commonwealth most quickly by injustice. This is the proof of that proverb: "The camel, desiring horns, lost its ears as well." For God is indeed merciful, but also just, and he gives time for repentance to sinners for the sake of justice; but if he sees that the time for repentance is given to impiety, he applies the knife to the wound

before the sufferers are consumed by the sore, the whole fullness of the substance having been entirely distributed. ^A

XVII. But since things were thus moving, the Emperor Cantacuzenus, seeing Callistus spending much time idly in the monastery of Athanasius, sent to ask him what his long absence from the patriarchal life meant. For he said it was known to all that public and civil affairs, being human, after God, also have men as overseers and administrators, as they are a union of soul and body alike. ^B Indeed, a long time has taught that the administration of bodily things is to be regulated and managed by kings who possess supreme power, following the political laws established from above; but as for spiritual things, they are managed by more sacred men, following the canons and dogmas similarly established from above. And thus, the commonwealth being administered, it would remain stable for all time, like a living body in the process of becoming, possessing resources for both the worse and the better state, according to which power of those ruling and steering has the quality of mind and disposition. For if one part were to be dragged aside, being provoked by violent waves and occurring at any time, in whatever way it might be compelled to move in opposition, it might perhaps be brought to its senses by the other, if that one were healthy and had the foundations of the good established in better reasonings. Therefore, one of two things is necessary: either he should return to the patriarchal life and do the things belonging to the throne, or, having resigned the office ^C—or the third thing, rendering an account of the drama—he should allow another to be introduced in his place, to remove the doubt of the difficulty. ^D

XVIII. At these words, a cloud of anger immediately overcame the patriarch, and having arisen, he spoke first of the counsel of God, to whose will, if that matter were to incline, it would come to pass that he would be ordered to return once more to the patriarchal throne. Then he launched a long attack against the emperor, because he hates the race of Christians subject to his empire as if they were enemies, while he endearing the barbarian as his dearest friends; because he betrays their goods to his son-in-law Hyrcanus and the barbarians who are under him, night and day; and that no cause can be found in truth, except in Palaeologus, that what remains of the Roman spoils are being taken, along with the men, like sacrificial victims delivered to be torn apart like beasts. And while the enemies are satiated with the slaughter and turn away from his excessive cruelty and reject the injustice against men of the same race, he himself is neither satiated nor shamed, neither before enemies nor friends, nor indeed before that light of the sun which nourishes all things. Having hammered himself to be altogether unfeeling, he adds even greater evils, and compels the miserable to become the authors of their own calamities, when they themselves transport in their own ships their brothers, friends, kin, and households as captives from their fatherland to a foreign land. The weeping of women and children, with men bound by the hands, a bloody prey mixed with continuous shouting and wailing, exceeds all measure. But all gentleness and mercy...

for the sake of the sheep which had been committed to the king to shepherd and govern had been utterly extinguished, as if they had sunk to the very depths of the sea. And in such a way, while he was seizing my own administration of souls together with his own and subjecting it to his will, and creating a single tyranny of cruelty, a destruction of both souls and bodies alike, it occurs to me to wonder how he is not ashamed to speak to me of peace, but rather invites me to an alleged harmony of the Roman state and at once of bodily and spiritual stability, while he clouds the nature of truth, and boasts that he is correcting with his tongue those very things which he destroys by his deeds, and while he possesses a tongue at war with his hand, he yet struts about, claiming to adjust and readjust others to the concord of justice. And wishing to say, "Come, share in our blood," he transforms his sounds to the other side, pretending to be unaware that while it is quite easy for anyone who wishes to utter the right things with his tongue, to see the contrary of all that he says is a failing of nature and the greatest of all evils. For what could be more wretched for a subject than to have a master who is a traitor and an enemy? And when the king, who has taken upon himself the spiritual guardianship to administer it for the benefit of the subjects, hastens to do the exact opposite, then he stands forth, very clearly and of himself, worse for the state than any civil war. ^C

XIX. But what need is there to pursue further the things which are known to all? For time would fail me in the telling if I wished to recount all such deeds. One thing, however, I cannot omit. The part of that great and famous temple of the Wisdom of God which faces the east, having been damaged ten years ago, was restored immediately after its collapse, as you all know, by Queen Anna, who was reigning at that time with her son; namely, that very high timbering of the portico which had collapsed and was causing great difficulty. That small remaining covering of the hemispherical roof, which was left on either side above the timbering, could have been joined together in a short time by means of timbers fixed with iron, but the power of the emperor intervened, a man whose spirit had changed in a wondrous way. Hence it came about that that sacred edifice was utterly neglected, and drew forth tears from all who beheld it—not only from Romans, but from all foreigners and people of other races as well. And when the fame of this universal spectacle spread to the ends of the earth, it happened that the ruler of Russia was inflamed with zeal. This land is great and populous, situated between those hyperborean mountains from which the great river Tanais rises, and as many smaller and larger streams as flow down into Lake Maeotis and the Caspian Sea. On the right, if anyone comes to us from the north, where the West Wind sets, and toward the neighboring Ocean through the land of the hyperborean Scythians.

and whatever flows of the easterly winds are accustomed to blow upon that land. For it is necessary to go through these things as well when describing the land, so that, for the purpose of refutation, those who are very far from the civilized world—nations which possess in their gulfs the most beautiful of spectacles, but which are of all nations on earth the most unperceiving—may be known. ^A The leader, then, of that land, having sent us thousands of assets from there—as much as he had indeed sent—was requesting through them that the remaining part of the divine temple be restored, promising that he would continue to send more from there in accordance with the requirement of the necessity. But this king of yours here, having outraged shame before both God and men, and having disregarded the venerable thrones of divine justice, has taken away those funds from us and sent them to Hyrcanus, his most impious son-in-law, openly becoming a temple-robber and sacrificing the precious things to demons. Yet what is this compared to those things which we mentioned above? For it is much graver than this to constantly hand over Christians to the barbarians themselves and, as though they were sacred offerings visible to the eyes, to sacrifice their souls to gods who cannot be seen by eyes. ^B Therefore, the divine house, left neglected, was presenting a spectacle—a certain miracle of the earth—most miserable to angels and men. And since there was nowhere on earth to send an embassy to report the injustice—with everything suffering under the pestilence of one man—it stands at last in the middle of the theater of the world, with the voiceless voices of the causes of the lamentations, proving the folly. To such a depth, then, and to such a great depth of evils, once fallen, what adamantine reason or what stony soul would wish to be a participant of such shameful things with him?

XX. Having said these things, and more than these, and having added things uneven and artless, and having a harshness that he did not keep in check, and being full of overly long insults, he ordered the envoys to depart. ^C And indeed, because of the excessive harshness, I have concealed in silence the greater part, even for my own part, and have kept only these in these memoirs to you, as far as it was permitted to me, moderately, and as if dedicating a pretext of material to the books of your histories. But you, having taken them up, will adorn them with your Calliope in a more eloquent and well-spoken manner. Although these and such things were said in such a way, the king, when he heard them from that man, did not bring out any angry word with his lips of all these things, but remained in his accustomed character. But afterwards, having gathered the bishops, he cast him out of the patriarchal rank. For the bishops brought forward other and different causes; some, the heresy of the Messalians previously brought to judgment by him, others his continuous and dishonest utterances of the tongue and his untimely and maddened rages, and others other things; but to the king, preferable to all [in] the pronouncement of the excommunications, which he had spoken against ^D everyone who might wish to recall him to the patriarchal dignity again, seemed best.

XXI. And these things happened in this manner; and a few days passed from then, and Philotheus Coccinus became his successor in the rank, having been transferred from Heraclea of Perinthus. But as for those reproaches concerning the temple of the Wisdom of God,

^A Cantacuzenus, being ashamed, ordered that a collection be gathered from the Byzantines according to the means of each—of those who were very wealthy and those who were not, and of those more illustrious and those who were not—and thus, in three months, the remaining roof of the temple was completed.

XXII. But what were those things, good Agathangelus, which, on account of the magnitude of the disaster, you omitted from your discourse, fearing lest men might read and hear them? For it seems to me that nothing greater or more insolent than those things you have already told can be said. Nevertheless, having made a moderate selection yourself, be eager to report to me one or two of the lighter ones, so that you might not weary our suspicions with a long silence, nor our ears with a longer discourse.

^B XXIII. First, therefore, divine man, hear me tell of those Barbarians who, whenever they wish, proceed into the palaces with the utmost hilarity in order to preside over the mysteries of their impious superstition, and who lead a dissolute and disorderly life, indulging in gluttony, drunkenness, and whatever typically arouses lust. These men, therefore, when they are about to perform sacred mysteries in the shrine outside the palace, standing in choirs beside the royal courts, chant their discordant dances with non-Greek movements, and with indistinct cries they shout the songs and hymns of Muhammad, ^C through which they draw—more to their own hearing than to that of the divine Gospels—sometimes all, and sometimes some of those who are gathered there. They are accustomed to do the same thing at the royal table, for the most part with cymbals and theatrical instruments and impious songs, as is customary among the impious.

XXIV. Let this one thing be said by me in passing. It remains to say that, because of their many hardships and labors, the barbarian forces were unwilling to cross over from Bithynia into Europe, nor would they apply themselves to King Cantacuzenus when he called them. For which reason, being compelled, he transported for hire to Europe their battalions, together with their wives and children, which seemed to him to be a defense and a terror to his son-in-law Palaiologos, like the face of a Gorgon; ^D and he transported Triballians and Mysians into some of the cities of the Chersonese, if perhaps there might be among them those who would wish to be his allies in war, so that they might keep those wretched Romans in servitude, aided by the command and will of the king. From whence, as if from a most fortified lair, they sallied forth and were ravaging and subjugating the neighboring part of Thrace. Now indeed the son of Orkhan, who had crossed the Hellespont as if into a colony and a fatherland, thought he could dwell there with the Barbarians who had arrived here a little earlier. But the things that follow, as they are well known to every prudent man, I shall, if you wish, pass over in silence. For I think you will easily be able to gather, by sure reasoning, what sort those things which are omitted in silence are, if you have properly heard what has been said, even if perhaps they are most harsh, those which Callistus, having attacked Cantacuzenus, spewed forth most bitterly.

And Agathangelus, having said such things and heard [them], ^A returned by the path he was accustomed to, secretly and in silence going home. And winter, in these matters, had not yet completely ended, but nonetheless had.

XXV. Now, at that time when the living souls of all the earth are reborn and flourish again, clad in grass of all kinds and flowering with all sorts of colors, the father bestowed imperial power upon Matthew in the temple of the Blachernae, through Philotheus, who, having succeeded Callistus, had recently been made patriarch according to the ancient custom. The purpose of this new diadem was that the son should rule together with the father during his life; but upon his death, due to old age, the son alone, by right of inheritance, would freely conduct the scepter of the empire. For the son-in-law Palaeologus ^B had been completely relegated to oblivion, and the approach to friendship and harmony had been entirely closed.

XXVI. Days meanwhile had passed, not very many, when Matthew, this new emperor, came to this house of my confinement, having come at the order of the emperor his father to intercede and persuade me to go back to the palace and to resume the association I was formerly accustomed to having with the kings, and to receive thence the various and frequent rewards of those exchanges. But as I rejected that entreaty from the very beginning of his speech, he immediately changed the gentleness of his tongue to the other side, and said, "If you think that ^C the affairs of life are in our power, and you grant that we have the authority to manage them according to our own judgment, you ought to consider whether, besides others, you are also torturing yourself against your will in a similar way, and [whether you] understand how, by your habit [of withdrawal], you are depriving many, together with utility, and are punishing yourself, while you deprive yourself openly and willingly of the glory of God and of men. For, to pass over other things, I see that for my father and the empress mother, there is no light pain from that which has happened in the meantime, and it is foreign to a matter ignored. For they remember you with a certain admiration, ^D and never cease, in public and private, to have your affairs in their mouth, and to revolve them with a grateful mind, especially at this time when they are swamped by the frequent and most vehement waves of affairs and the onslaught of fortune. They desire a like-minded friend, who, like a zephyr, may soothe their mind, and they are prepared to increase your wealth and glory with a certain pleasure, and to adorn you with all the honors that befit friendship, and such as would be in accordance with your own wish. For it is not unpunished if one does not apply justice to the just. It is permitted to you to live in happiness and pleasure; yet you, of your own accord, consume yourself with calamity and sorrow, and never allow your mind to come to tranquility. But if fortune and chance carry our affairs, and impose upon us with a certain mastery a will that compels us against our will to act and to suffer, there is nothing left for you to object. Nor am I about to disturb the bounds fortified by necessities in the future.

but I will beware and guard myself against Adrasteia, henceforth as is fitting, making atonement for my rashness. ^B Yet I wish to learn from your wisdom, O excellent one, the precise truth; for if you could persuade me that this view holds, you would soon be bestowing upon me a profound pleasure, casting away and striking off in a brief moment those long-standing perplexities of my soul, which for a long time have strongly gripped the hearth of my mind, and now indeed infinitely increase the numberless counts of my anxieties and reasonings, and which, by bringing in their compositions and oppositions and dispositions now in one way and now in another, now infinitely tear apart and rend the magnitude of the self-imposed sadness which I have contracted for myself—having somehow or other unawares taken upon myself both this and the form of the imperial office, on the one hand, willingly submitting to paternal desires, and on the other, not so willingly, because of the turbulence of affairs that meanwhile surrounds and encompasses us, as has been said.

For there are, there are some—or rather, not some, but since all the Roman multitudes, except for a few, even to my father, ascribe the causes of the Roman calamities which have now broken out so harshly. And now the accusation has flowed into the public arena, and all the nations of the Barbarians and peoples of every kind are full of it: they make the lanes, the markets, and the squares full of the rumor, strengthening it always and bringing every kind of reproach, knowing not how to examine anything regarding what is just or unjust, nor casting into their mind that it was permitted for my father, for the causes that everyone knows, both to take away Palaeologus together with his mother, and to take him as a son-in-law for my sister and prefer him over us, his sons. But now, seeing him plotting and moving every artifice against us, and while it is necessary to hate [him], they nevertheless join with him in every word and opinion, and they hate my father without judgment because, compelled by necessity, he calls for assistance from the Barbarians, defending himself against a native and dishonest son-in-law by means of a foreign and honest one, and because he is marching against the malice and ill-will of the subjects.

And in this way, by overturning the divine providence, they do not know it, and they set aside the necessity of fortune that follows upon these things. For everything, as is natural, being foreknown to God and entrusted to all, [so that] in no way can the divine providence be falsified, ^C it follows by necessity that everything foreknown by divine providence must happen exactly as it has been foreknown. Those to whom it does not happen to believe this, I do not believe they can easily place the foundations of divine providence on a weak and wandering opinion—in matters that flow and will flow through all time when the firm support is removed. For things that cannot necessarily come to pass ^D and exactly as they will be hereafter, such things, since they are infinite, can hardly ever be known beforehand. Thus all the words of the holy prophets are vain, or [vain are] those who were at Dodona or at the Delphic tripod, who used to foretell the future to those consulting them, when the infinite cannot be circumscribed by the bounds of knowledge. And so they are caught in the very act of disparaging divine providence. And how absurd and of what kind this is, it is far from [the case that] any unskilled and unpolished and rustic person would clearly understand. For when he had driven himself to such unusual ends and crags, it would have been very easy for him, had he not thought that the events of past and future things proceed bound by infrangible necessities, and for each man...

to serve fortunes that are completely uncertain. If, therefore, these things are so, and that which is in our own power also departs from the midst and sinks into the ^A depths of non-existence, what contrivance will save my father from doing the things woven by necessary fortune? And so, indeed, they are determinedly foreknown by God, and yet they happen in such a way as to have been foreknown to Providence; and they are known truly as they are determined and are by nature to be brought about by the Providence above—that is to say, as being driven by necessary fortune. For I have heard that divine Providence is even called spontaneity and fortune, and that this exists without hindrance, not only among the most learned of the Greek children, but even among some of our own. It should, therefore, be praised that my father, being led by divine Providence and serving an inevitable necessity, permits to the barbarians—those who are, however, his kin and friends—the slaughters, the spoils, and the manifold and diverse abductions of those once judged by God to be for destruction. But they are indignant, and they reproach and hate; they effect his removal by prayers, and they vehemently long for and pray for the empire for the family of the Palaiologos. Nor do they cease from plotting against him with forces joined to him as much as they can. They have heard this continuously chanted from ancient times as one of many other evils; and this [fate], that it has been given to this people by fortune to receive the entire land of the Romans into their own dominion and to enter, as far as the very ^B streets, piazzas, and porticoes, of the great city of Byzantium.

XXVII.

with being confined by limits. Just as if one who sees someone walking reports it, it is necessary that he speaks the truth. Yet it is not because he tells the truth that the man is walking; rather, because the man himself wishes to walk, it necessarily follows that the other tells the truth. The walker provides the cause for the reporter speaking the truth, and the report subsequently takes the place of the effect. By reason of a certain association, the report appears to have the absolute necessity of truth as if it were an image following it. But the matter is not so. For neither the report of the narrator nor the vision of the observer imposes any necessity upon the will and freedom of the one walking. And if it seems good, I will make this reasoning more probable by another example. Let us assume, therefore, that someone at home is voluntarily cutting a piece of wood three cubits long for the purpose of a staff, with no one from among all those who pass by the house ^B commanding him to do so. And you, I suppose, will not doubt that because of the crowd of people, the passersby immediately see and understand what length and breadth the staff has; yet their vision exerts no necessity upon the work. If, therefore, God as present sees both all that is and all that will be, how could anyone say that the vision and knowledge of God bring any necessity to those things which are brought to pass in an order born free and restricted by no lordship? For just as no vision of all men brings any necessity to those things that are seen to be happening in the present, so too does God’s foreknowledge or knowledge bring no force at all to those things that happen, nor does any necessity enslave the freedom once given to things. For God sees in like manner the things that are happening and the things that will come to pass, with no distinction put between them, inasmuch as He remains continually in the simplicity of His presence. Thus also does He never cease to grant the freedom given to each. Therefore, as I have said, one should no more wish to call it God’s foreseeing and foreknowing than His seeing and knowing, since no place is found for what is past or what is future in the single mode [of His existence]. ^C

XXVIII. Why then do you seek to lead back the father from charges to innocence by an uncertain opinion, twisting things to your own advantage with a certain art and with a deception of arguments, striving to change those things for which he will pay the penalty to God who sees and judges? For having been a voluntary fugitive from God, and led by a desire for ephemeral fortune and glory, and having become estranged from that divine man, he reaps a perpetual crop as inglorious as the glorious name he strove to sow through the earth. Always destitute of counsel, he is rejected from happiness, and that which he pursued, thinking it to be the best, from all those things he has been utterly cast down by the fortune to which he was forced to serve. Where he thought himself to be the most fortunate of all kings, in that very place, with fortune turned to the other side, ^D to the whole spectacle of life and to the world of men

^A he showed him to be destitute not only of the one God, but even of the very fortune he wished to enjoy. For no glory that is separated from God and established upon mutable fortune will stand on a firm foundation. For of the two evils that follow the lot of prosperous fortune, both are either poured over the miserable in turn, ^B wherever they clothe themselves in it, or one of the two [is present]. For either he knows the inconstancy of fortune, and is compelled always for that reason to fear sudden change, and is never allowed to live securely in happy circumstances; and while it is present, he is pained by the hope of losing it, and when it has departed, he is pained again by the memory that remains and by the despair of its recovery; or he does not know it, and not knowing, he is not happy. For when it is present, it brings no pleasure to the one possessing it; and how could one be happy if he does not have the perception of what he seems to possess? And if later it brings what is proper to its nature—I speak of its change—it sometimes even destroys life itself with the excess of sudden shock. And that which he did not wish to leave has immediately left him, and he himself is left behind, neither as he had thought he would be left, nor as he had been accustomed to live. For such are the circular toys of temporal affairs and the laughters of fortune, a shadow that is not by nature capable of being grasped, and an empty name wandering in the imaginations of petty and small-minded men. Thus it is very easily shaken by the myriad dice of uncertain changes. And he who greatly wishes to remain with it is easily cast away from remaining secure; but he who voluntarily retires from it, having turned his mind toward God, the true leader of good things, ^C will safely overcome the storm of life, and will fear neither the snares nor the robberies of any man at all.

XXIX.

entrails of brute animals is tracked by the sons of the Chaldeans—since you have also spoken concerning such things—or if any utterance proceeding from a Delphic tripod is offered for the foreknowledge of future events, these too are conjectural prognostications of demons, who gather the future from the habits and the life-choice of those who inquire. And these conjectural prognostications do not immediately impose necessity upon events, nor can the inherent seduction of the demons shake a soul firmly established in the fear of God and in the purity of such health. ^B And just as men would not have need of medicine if they were not sick, so neither would there be need of divination if they were not sinning by plunging headlong into erring fortunes, and being fearful of this, being compelled to inquire about the future from those who have practiced the art of divination for many ages—demons—who are indeed more skillful than men, yet not much more so. For you might see them also casting their oracle in the middle, as it were. For among other things, it says, "By crossing the Halys, you will destroy a great kingdom," revealing neither which of the two, nor whether the crossing would be auspicious for the one inquiring, but only if he happened to cross. And ten thousand such things might be found by those who are not very reluctant to be at leisure.

XXX. Do not say further

XXXI. Why, therefore, do you yourself, along with your father, while neglecting those countless domestic evils, inspect with every concern the crimes of the fathers, and why do you not wish to turn your mind away ^D from them, not even in the slightest?

^A For count—if you wish, while lowering slightly the brows of your arrogance—these new and recent crimes of yours, and compare them with all those older sins of your ancestors; and you will see your own crimes to be as much heavier and more various as the whole barren sand of the seashore, when gathered into one mass, exceeds a small discus, of the kind which those who were exercising themselves in the Olympic games once used, as well as those training for the pancratium.

^B 32. But if it is shameful to think shameful thoughts, it is surely by far more shameful to have the power to perform the most shameful acts, and to do them, and at the same time to proclaim them before the public ear. And if this is how it stands, where then would one not be driven by the shamelessness—in ways for which even the most wretched of low-born men would blush—by which your father flaunts himself, and cries out with bare head to the Byzantines that, because of our hatred, they are with all their heart preferring the son-in-law Palaiologos, while you are now excluded not only from every advancement and the harvesting of your crops, but also from every good hope thereafter; and yet you will see, in a short time, this great and famous city, Byzantium, similarly handed over by me to the leader of the barbarians for a royal residence—to Hyrcanus, the son-in-law, along with all the barbarians under his authority! Whence you shall be estranged from your wives and children with all speed, and at the same time from your wealth and homes, and you yourselves shall serve in the lot of the captive. This is that very thing which that Homeric Cyclops once proclaimed to the shipwrecked Odysseus, the son of Laertes, when he leaped upon him, saying that he would keep him for his very last meal, after he had eaten those men whose dinner he had made for himself with beastly and raw-fleshed appetite before his very eyes. What is more miserable or more savage than this proclamation? If, therefore, it is most shameful that a man in power should perform the most shameful acts, it is surely not far from madness if a shepherd delivers the flock entrusted to him to the wolves to be devoured. For it is right ^C to fight and to seek the salvation of the flock in every way. But he, on the contrary, applies his pastoral rule unto infinite destruction, nor does he fear to produce the wicked offspring of an impious soul. But he glories and exults in the ruined fortunes of the Romans as his own infinite happiness. Though just as it is nothing new or unheard-of for someone who has laid low thousands of men in unjust slaughter to also be held by lust, so neither is it anything new for this man, who once separated himself from God the Creator and renounced piety, having rejected divine laws and institutions and insolently despised all the holy mysteries, and who has scattered in the manner of criminals, over land and sea, those who had grown up in piety, and has bound many of those who were left behind in all sorts of chains; that he should even glory in such misdeeds, which, like a rope, draw his intellect by the force of equality back to the source of original ^D wickedness. But tell me, you, is it necessary that fortune and fate be the cause that brings about these things? How then, friend? It is the same as if someone, walking naked under the open sky in midwinter, were to attribute the cause of the cold not to his own judgment and will, but to the necessity of fate. For certainly, the free will of each individual does not become a Clotho to each, nor is one's lot as if it had proceeded from one and the same source. Finally, do you wish that I, a companion in these critical affairs to which things have been led, should come to you, when a greater...

distance than the one which now exists between me and you would often be in my prayers? But depart with God, and do not urge me to say more; for I shall neither say nor do anything of those things which are of your will.

^B XXXIII. That young emperor Matthew, when he had spoken what he had not yet said to another, and had heard what he had not yet heard from another, went off entirely into sadness and despair, since the conversation had not turned out according to his wishes. He wanted, indeed, to offer blandishments and to listen; but when he saw that I would not turn my mind to him even for a little while, he departed, completely deprived of the hope of his parents. Therefore, our custody became safer and more secure, as the crowd of Palamas, for the sake of the calumnies, excited and increased the anger of the kings. Nor, furthermore, did I have for the remaining span of my life anyone from whom I might hear anything or with whom I might converse.

XXXIV. A few days having then passed, after the setting of the sun, at the second hour of the night, while I was—as I am accustomed to do—reciting evening hymns ^C to Christ God in the corner of the chamber where we had long ago placed his divine image and that of his most holy Mother, a sudden and turbulent commotion, similar to the magnitude of the miraculous movements of ancient times, shook the whole earth where I stood. Being enclosed, I did not know what things were happening outside, nor what had befallen Byzantium or the other cities. Therefore, that earthquake violently shattered and shook my chamber, so that many parts were broken and fell to the ground, and our books were thrown from their place to the floor. My soul, suspended at this hour and with the earth's motion ^D suddenly and violently increasing, forced me to abandon hope of life, when I feared that I might be crushed by the earth and by the chamber itself. Indeed, since I had nowhere to turn my eyes to avoid that divine wrath, which was approaching us because of our wickedness and was expressed in vivid colors of threats, I firmly fixed my feet to the ground, but I could not withstand the trembling earth. Everywhere for me the situation was full of anxiety; for inside I was faring badly, and it did not come into my mind to go out at all; the latter for the reason that I was in chains and feared the guards before the doors, and the former because I understood that no one could escape the divine purpose, neither he who walks under the open sky, nor he who is cast into a prison. For all things depend upon His will, both those which occur openly and those which are placed in the most hidden recess, and by God's will can be liberated even he who might see countless snares constructed around him by enemies and weapons flying toward him. He is also destroyed most easily if He withdraws. Wherefore, with hands to

^A of the will, and all that is apparent and [in the hidden recesses of the heart]; and one might be saved if God wills it, even if he were to see ten thousand traps of enemies spreading all around, and arrows flying about; but he might be destroyed if that One who grants these things permits it. Hence, pressing my hands against those divine images, I endured, being myself shaken along with that shaking of the earth, and I reasoned that it was better for me to remain there and await the end of life, where I had labored until now for the sake of piety, than to look toward human assistance.

XXXV. But since, by the providence of God, I had been delivered from danger, on the following day I heard what had befallen them, things which I shall describe more fully later, as they require a more extensive account.

NICEPHORUS GREGORAS BYZANTINE HISTORY BOOK TWENTY-NINE

^B I. At the winter solstice, the good Agathangelus returned to us; secretly, according to his custom, around the middle of the night, at that very hour when cocks are accustomed to stretch their wings and blow their innate trumpets. And after greeting me and sitting down, he first inquired as to the reason for the King's arrival among us. Then he, too, began to recount the external events that had occurred between spring and summer. And first he spoke of the earthquake, among other things, and how the walls of the city of the Byzantines had collapsed in many places, and many of the houses had buried their inhabitants. Of the cities in the Chersonese, some sank down, men and all, as the earth there immediately split and gaped wide in many places; while as for others, since the walls round about were destroyed and the houses in most part collapsed, it befell some of the inhabitants to be hurried to a violent death, while others were on that very same day surrendered of their own accord to the neighboring Barbarians. For King Kantakouzenos had, about two years before, as has been said, granted them one of the most fortified cities in that region as a dwelling place, so that they might have a stronghold against his kinsman, Palaiologos. They, however, did not wish to remain in the region for long; but wandering about, always plundering, they began driving the men themselves from the fields of the neighboring towns.

They set upon all the men, pack animals, and flocks ^A in succession, and in a short time rendered the entire interior of the Chersonese a place fit for their own horses, establishing a camp in the open air that seemed in no way different from the Asiatic land that had long been their home. Wherefore, having witnessed the disaster caused by the earthquake from nearby, they very quickly swooped in and, without any labor, pilfered from the homes all the possessions that had not been buried. And from that time on, moving out in swarms, they continued to plunder all the land even up to the very gates of Byzantium, and deterred the Romans from it entirely. They demanded that taxes be paid by all the towns in the surrounding area, and they installed barbarian decadarchs and prefects among them. But not even in this way could the miserable Thracians enjoy the harvest of that summer, for the scythe could reach almost no wheat at all, on account of the severity of the prefects, the frequent ambushes, and the plundering raids made by other barbarians coming from elsewhere. For this reason, also, as many Romans as were able to escape the barbarian hands there became very eager refugees from their fatherland, fleeing from whatever part of the land it happened to be easiest for each one to escape—destitute of all belongings and even of the necessities of life—becoming a cause of long tears to those who saw them. For most of them, because they were not swift enough to be scattered elsewhere, decided it was ^B better to remain in the land of the Byzantines. And some surrendered themselves into the slavery of those with influence there for the sake of a little bread, while others, carrying a wallet, wandered about the streets in crowds, stretching out their hands to the throng of passersby, in case anyone might throw them a small coin or an obol for the purchase of bread. Indeed, the affairs of the Byzantines reached such a state of cowardice that even if one of the market-folk happened to let out a somewhat harsh cry while perhaps scolding a child, or if a woman wept while calling out to her kinsmen who had been taken captive, the people were nearly dying of fear, immediately becoming suspicious that the barbarians had leapt within the walls. Whence, they were even contemplating foreign cities and islands, preferring a strange land to their own. Thus they sat, suspended in fear and terror, and always had their own death before their eyes, especially because the parts of the surrounding walls that had been leveled three days earlier were poorly guarded.

II. After the winter winds had subsided from their violence into calm, and the waves had for some time been gently washing against the shores, and the spring season was persuading the sun, as it were, to open the gates of the day and overcome the night in the struggle, when merchant ships were now being boldly launched from the harbors and triremes were being equipped with oars and men were leaning into the rowing; King John Palaiologos departed from Thessalonica with triremes, biremes, and four—as well as several uniremes—and set course first for the island of Lemnos; thence he proceeded to Samothrace and Imbros, and from there likewise to Lesbos, and after he had confirmed and stabilized his presence...

in the minds of all who had previously been hesitant toward him, he finally put in at the port of Tenedos. There he learned that for a long time eleven triremes were being prepared against him by the King, who was also his kinsman, and there he decided that he ought to remain for the time being, and await the outcome with every vote cast. ^A

III. While these things were proceeding in this manner, it also seemed good to Palamas the impious, having used a certain Proclus as a pretext, to arrive at Byzantium for many reasons: first, that he might incite King Cantacuzenus to deliver up us, the defenders of piety, to a cruel death; second, that he might bring to the Byzantines other books recently written against the true religion—a doctrine which favored that old error of the worship of many gods too wickedly, and was even an innovation in its excess of evil; and third, that he might provide for the King, Cantacuzenus, his own prayers as a protective charm against Palaeologus, his kinsman—a most pleasant and truly yearned-for provision for him. And when a cargo ship from the ports of Thessalonica happened to be ready to set sail, he took ship in it himself. Until it reached the Hellespontine straits, a favorable wind bore them along, blowing upon the stern; but there, when it suddenly ceased and, so to speak, died away, a great calm seized the sea, and kept that cargo ship perfectly motionless for two days, swaying at a single anchor. On the third day, however, those who had sailed down from the two rivers, the Scamander and the Simois, which flow from the Asian city of Dardanus on either side, captured that ship with some pirate skiffs without any bloodshed, ^B and they led them toward the shores, where it happened that the elder of the sons of the satrap Hyrcanus was present at that time, and all the cargo of the ship was unloaded and carried off under his inspection. With them Palamas was also brought out; and having been recognized for who he was in terms of his conduct and status—not only because of those immense and huge trunks, but also because of the vast amount of silver and gold coins he was hiding in his bosom—he was immediately assailed by the Barbarians with many insults, and his ears were filled with many reproaches. For they said: "You ought to teach others, O man, to live a life free from possessions and wealth, according to the rule of your precepts, yet by your very deeds you reveal the wickedness of your own soul and at the same time teach your followers to do the contrary." And when his books were also brought out, the Barbarian asked of each one what it was and whose work. ^C And learning that some were written by Palamas himself, he immediately ordered them to be cast into the midst of the sea, I believe by the divine providence that invisibly moved him to this, so that those which were preserved might not fill the souls of the simpler-hearted with much more recent debauchery. However, the divine Gospel of Christ, those who were with them were ordered to cherish with great reverence according to the Psalter of David. For the Ishmaelites were accustomed to honor both all the prophets and also Christ the Redeemer, since he was one of the prophets. Then he ordered him to be stripped of his own garments; and having been dressed in others, worn and tattered, he was sent into the custody of the merchants' dogs. ^D

and he was commanded to inflict upon him other lashes, both for greater payment and at the same time to practice upon him that sodomitic and unnatural vice of male-lust ^A—I know not which, whether it is something they are accustomed to do for their own sake and for the mockery of the captured Christians, or whether the divine justice from above, having permitted it here, did not overly bear with him for long—but He delivered the culprit, as the leader of the now-prevailing impiety, into the hands of the barbarians, so that the most shameful nature of his heresy might not remain hidden or escape those who were more ignorant or careless concerning divine matters, but that insult might avenge insult, and that what was covered by his own wickedness might be publicly exposed in this more theatrical manner through the most shameful of carnal and apparent passions. And he who desired to be glorified by playing the tyrant over piety has now been clearly convicted and branded by this very image of polytheism. Wherefore, he was considered pleasing to his own fellow-worshippers and worthy of undeserved honors, while to those who were alien and barbarians, this was not even considered endurable to the mere hearing. For even if, among their other absurdities, the barbarians reject the divine economy of the Incarnation, yet even they do not themselves deny the Creator of the universe and God. But Palamas decreed a severe and most audacious ^B reckoning for both; and there was no such vexer of religion in former times. For he does not wish to serve one Godhead consisting of three persons, nor does he say that the incarnate Word is the Son of God, but [he speaks of] a certain energy lacking essence and substance, which itself is divided into myriads of uncreated, mutually differing godheads, as he himself has written more broadly elsewhere in condemning him. Whence here, too, he pays a greater penalty before that eternal punishment for the many tribulations of those who strove against the bastion of true religion, for he persecuted some and drove others elsewhere, and he stripped them shamefully of their priestly symbols. For he himself, having been shamefully stripped of his own priestly symbols, and moreover of all clothing whatsoever, suffered in the same way the most shameful things from those barbarians whom he himself had loved so much that he had struggled greatly to bring Cantacuzenus to them, so that he might procure them as helpers against his brother-in-law Palaeologus, and count them as friends for life and as guardians of an immortal life. Wherefore he received from them a worthy reward, having given what he had given, and given what he had received; for he had shamefully and altogether unworthily risen to the priestly rank, and in return he rendered to those who had ordained him the fitting reward of impiety; and in turn, by those same barbarians, he has been most shamefully deposed, having received the reward for where he had ^C betrothed the friendship of the Romans' enemy to the Emperor, so that by a shameful, yet just, deposition, the unjust deposition of many priests and bishops and—to speak in summary—every pious holiness might be counterbalanced, and those things which have been understood wisely by the more learned before the deeds, might appear clearly to be happening in the deeds. ^D IV. After he had been led away to Hyrcanus, the leader, that is to say, of the barbarians, beyond other things from among those

which he had heard from those present there at that time, and which he himself had spoken, and by which he had been led on and confessed, he thought it better, for the sake of ^A love of life, to remain silent. When, however, that man learned that he was the very person through whom the passion for polytheism had flourished among the Roman leaders, and acts for the worship of vain religion had been established according to new customs, he condemned him and mocked him, laughing him to scorn. He commanded that he be led away some distance from the satrap’s house to discourse about this newfangled miracle-working before one of the philosophers among the barbarians present there, and before a multitude. Now, as for whatever he said there for the pleasure of the barbarians, fearing to lose his life, it is superfluous to recount it. But the things which those servants of his depravity pass on to public report—the things sent by him in writing to them—are as follows. Being asked, he says, to provide an explanation of this newfangled religion, he said he had no time to defend himself, pleading that the disciples and the judges of his adversaries were taking on the roles of opposing parties; ^B and he said that there was no need to indicate the things which they were contradicting, in order to defend the true religion. Then, having been led away into captivity, he did not answer them, since, as he said, neither did Christ answer after He had been betrayed. These are the customary mendacities of that absurd tongue; for who would have dared, or who could have found room and necessity to bring forward to barbarians, as a proof of his own statements, the Passion of Christ? Furthermore, he writes next about the Christians in that region, how they, being ignorant, extol him with praises because he proclaims those who wickedly divide the one God into infinite superior and inferior divinities. And he says that he does not accept those useless praises; for the pious men, deceived, were falsely offering them to him. They were cursing his worship of many gods, but they did not know it was he himself whom they were cursing. So many-footed is that accursed man, and in the color of his opinion he is unstable and unsteady; and at different times ^C and in different matters he attaches himself to diverging and clashing colors and shapes of opinion and language, and he easily shifts and transforms himself. He does not know how to be chastened by the Lord’s discipline, but just as if one of the murderers were being led to prison so that, having become afraid, he might be sober-minded for the future and desist from all robbery, yet he instead kills the very guards themselves and whomever of those passing by he can reach—so too this man neither trembles when punished nor is warned when warned by God; but he remains unchastened in his judgment within the place of chastisement, and uninstructed in the school of God, being always held by the same arrogance and making a pretext for his wickedness out of those things which God has allowed him to suffer for the prevention of wickedness. For he has not ceased even yet from his boastful language ^D and from that empty conceit, but he prides himself on expressing his own image and his own captivity among the barbarians as the Passion of Christ, which was undergone for our sake. He is accustomed to adulterate matters with lies, and to extol with praises those things of which he ought to be ashamed. Thus, in the breast of such a man, there is no place for the memory of God and divine virtue. And so, for the most part, God exposes him to be mocked and hated and pursued by everyone—that plague of depravity. For he does so much, as if a die were cast,

even by those very rulers and like-minded individuals who had previously greatly desired him, due to that illicit and sodomitical union with the barbarians, that they are no longer willing to exchange their freedom for him, even if they were promised all their wealth or, if necessary, to descend into Hades. They considered that, however the outcome might turn, nothing good would come of the matter. For they said that if they willed to cover up the crime in silence and leave him to exercise the priesthood, all the stones would cry out against the enormity of the absurdity; but if they were to persuade him to remain inactive and abstain from the liturgy, he would thenceforth be their most shameless accuser among the masses, and would brandish a tongue sharper than any sword against them, appearing more burdensome than all of Olympus. ^B And when the theatrical and marketplace scoffs were heard cast out into the streets—I refer to the calf, and the androgynous god, and the thigh that brought forth the untimely fetus—they were by no means the abortions of Dionysus or the Theban Semele, but rather the untimely and unnatural miscarriages of barbarian and impious seeds, kin to those which his own impious mind was accustomed to producing—evil and godless fruits indeed, if not worse than any hangman’s noose in the eyes of all who have had the misfortune to use such a man as their teacher.

V. ^C And regarding these matters, you yourself will judge them more accurately with your wise and sane mind and reason. For my part, I shall recount the events that followed, which were similar and which befell by God’s judgment. For that patriarch Callistus, having been deposed by those who had honored him, and not wishing to lay aside the insignia of the high priesthood of his own accord, feared neither to endure their assault against his will nor to be cast into a terrible prison, lest he should perhaps incite sedition in the city, according to the rumor that was circulating, and live more audaciously and arrogantly than he was permitted in his life of tranquility; and he would easily have fallen into evil, had he not learned of the matter and fled immediately. This plan seemed acceptable to the emperor and the patriarch, and the secret rumor was divulged into the marketplace. Upon learning of the matter himself, he was gripped by great cowardice and secretly fled to the Latin garrison situated opposite, subjecting himself to foreign protection and rule out of a love for life. And just as he had been insulting the pious men who had undergone many hardships for the sake of religion only yesterday ^D and the day before, so he himself immediately fell into his own calamity. For he himself had been the one who dragged away and cast into prison those who had fled to the church of Sophia and the highest sanctuary of God, contrary to the law. If, however, anyone escaped the pursuers and fled to that Latin garrison, he would immediately pour out many accusations against them, attacking them with infinite insults, and would speak as if those who were friends of Barlaam the Latin were now becoming friends of his fellow tribesmen. And so, amid their own dogmas, the aids of impiety were preserved.

^A for a short time, and remained hidden from the many, standing in darkness and directly contrary to the truth. But in time, they were exposed by being brought to light by the truth and were refuted by the very facts themselves, caught by their own wings and falling into their own traps. For when no one else was pursuing them, they were pursued by themselves alone, and they suffered at home what they had done against those who were pious, as divine justice gradually and secretly pursued them, driving them on and making them worse than those struck with Corybantic madness. For beyond those, many others among them suffered similar things, and like people struck by lightning and seized by some divinely-sent madness, they did not know what they were doing; but these impious and most detestable men wandered about like the drunken or insane, bacchanting against themselves and behaving in a strange and monstrous manner.

VI. For my part, since the circumstances of time do not allow me to dwell on similar matters for the present, I shall turn to other things, preparing a broader narrative as I proceed as is appropriate. ^B For having recently arrived around the summer solstice of the sun, the Emperor Cantacuzenus, having set sail from the harbor of Byzantium with eleven ships, arrived on the seventh day at Tenedos, intending to wage war there against his son-in-law, Palaeologus. For he hoped that one of two things would happen: either by the treachery of those within, or by a battle joined outside, he would fall upon the men suddenly, who had been left without a guard, and capture both him and the fortress of Tenedos, and instead of himself leave behind his son, Matthew, who was at that time sailing with his father together with his wife. But when he was least able to enter the harbor of the Tenedians, since they had anticipated his arrival, he decided not to land all the ships upon the land of the island. He judged it not appropriate, for fear lest the ships, being emptied for the most part, might suggest to Palaeologus, whose mind was set against him, that not only had the entire expedition been deceived in its plans and designs, but that they had become traitors to themselves without any struggle to the enemies. For this reason, they permitted the landing to only four ships, in which they had the greatest confidence. And so, as the landing was already taking place, and those who had been ordered to set fire to the sheaves of grain were ready, as were those to root up the vines and those to carry water from the island into the ships, immediately the strongest part of the Tenedian garrison sallied out from the gates of the fortress, both infantry and cavalry, and joined a fierce battle along the shore. They did not allow the sailors to draw water, but forced them to return, having cut their stern cables. For this reason, the Byzantines withdrew a little from the land and held their ships; on the following day they weighed anchor, and on the third day they sailed to the island of Imbros, considering it also to be hostile to them. There, having done and suffered similar things, they departed for the city of Aenos, which was friendly to Cantacuzenus. There, having left behind the new emperor, Matthew, together with his wife, they returned with all speed with ten ships to Byzantium; for the crew of the one ship ^C

^A VII. Indeed, that which I ought to have related a little while ago, I ceased to tell, fearing lest I might disturb your soul; but now I shall execute the command of your friends and fellow-soldiers. For Eulogia, who was indeed a queen—having acquired that name, justly, by both words and deeds—after she had endured many calamities, various persecutions, and the assaults of misfortune on account of the divine precepts of the Church, and since, in her old age, she had fallen into many other and numerous infirmities, she was thus, having her body exhausted in a brief time, translated to that eternal and blessed life. Now, therefore, your friends invoke you to adorn her with epitaphs, since many of the diseases of those who visit her tomb are openly and most swiftly repelled, God thereby reproving the madness and wickedness of her persecutors. For you know clearly what glory and what fame of name the wife of the son of King Andronicus attained; and when she had enjoyed life with him for scarcely two years, she was punished by death, and, clothed in a worn-out garment, she distributed all her wealth to captives and other poor people, apart from what she had expended for the adornment of that magnificent and divine phrontisterium, which she made more renowned for virtue than for its structure. For at very great and magnificent expense she constructed it, and brought together more than a hundred nuns to occupy themselves there with pious exercises. She herself, indeed, was the leader in all those things which were necessary, with a benevolent mind, as a mistress; she helped them after the manner of their other servants, even in the kitchen and if anything was even more menial, and in general she proposed herself as an example of every virtue and a candid life, being then about seventy years of age. And what need is there to explain more to you, when you know her character better than others? For I remember hearing you often, as you explained the beautiful things that were in her and enkindled the listeners forthwith to the love of a good life, because she was a woman of keen mind, and both in speaking and in silence she was always a stimulus to those who were present, and a great and unconquerable example of the monastic life, and how firm and brazen was the habit penetrative of holiness—a sure norm of every spiritual education, and an accurate balance of justice. Also, to the swift and strong motions of the soul, sound reasons were joined, and neither her hand appeared officious to anyone at all, nor her tongue, but in her very soul she was rooting out the causes with the utmost effort before they could grow. ^C Moreover, she consumed her hours in reading the holy books; and from thence she obtained great and varied experience, and at the opportune time she was present as a most valiant fellow-soldier for the divine precepts of the Church, and, dedicating her tongue to the truth of the priests, she constituted it a tireless fortress and guardian of her lips. Even you yourself could say and explain more with a more abundant tongue and with books most becomingly written. Now, I shall set forth for you some of the external matters which have been announced, with which unpleasant things the present time has filled our ears.

^B VIII. For a rumor arrived three days ago at Byzantium, from the Antiochenes who dwell toward the sunrise, that the lord of Egypt and Arabia, having been seized by some diabolical influence, had issued an edict that all Christians dwelling in that land who have reached puberty should be put to death, unless they were to change their worship to the religion of the Arabs; for he said that it was not fitting that those who obey my empire should despise my religion. Since, therefore, very many there at that time stood firm on behalf of piety, strongly and with fervent zeal, a great slaughter occurred, so that the number of those killed appeared to exceed twenty thousand. The terror began first in Palestine, then passed through Coele-Syria and all of Phoenicia and as many cities and villages surrounding Damascus as reach to Tyre and Sidon, and as much as the sea bathes Mount Carmel. The terror ceased only when the tyrant repented of the deed.

IX. After having said these things and many others besides, the good Agathangelus departed around the middle of the night, once again escaping our lictors and savage guards, leaving me alone, who was as always vexed by that narrow and terrible life.

^C X. But when the following year succeeded the present one, the affairs of the Romans were ailing more than was customary, both because of the habitual Persian dominion, which, through the traitor Cantacuzenus, they already held up to the gates of Byzantium, using and abusing things as if they were their own, not only in all matters, but also compelling and leading off women and children along with men to whatever they wished—not running and passing by outside the cities as before, but already establishing colonies within, according to how and in what manner and where and when their desire prompted them, ruling and commanding despotically.

XI. Now, as autumn was already drawing to a close, around the middle of one of the nights, the rumor of a sudden event filled all of Byzantium: that the younger Emperor Palaiologos was within the walls. He had arrived without the aid of any foreign people, having come on the third day from the island of Tenedos, with his entry unperceived by anyone, having sailed in through the harbor and naval dockyard toward the east with two very large biremes and sixteen uniremes. Some of these ships had been built for him at home, while others had been gathered in part from Tenedos and Lesbos and Lemnos, and from those who were living an autonomous life. Cantacuzenus, however, upon hearing what had happened, was entirely unwilling to leave the palace, fearing the assault of the Byzantines, who were already greatly enraged against him both on account of those things which previously...

I have often mentioned, and because he had trampled underfoot the ancestral laws of piety, and having stripped away the freedom of those Romans who remained, he had handed them over to serve barbarian and godless enemies. He sent, therefore, with all speed ^A into the palace, and gathered—not very willingly—the leaders of the senate, in order that he might use them as allies, along with those Catalans who had long been dwelling with him, numbering one hundred, in case the Emperor Palaiologos should approach the royal walls with arms and intent to wage war, and so that they, being free, might not be compelled to fight for him against himself. But since God was not aiding him, all things were overturned. For on the next day, all the Byzantines, having pitched camp with him, were besieging him vigorously. And before two whole days had passed, having set fire with many brushwood faggots to the gate of the lower palace that opens toward the holy temple at Blachernae, they poured in with unbridled force, and plundered the so-called Castellum as they pleased, and divided it among themselves as they wished. ^B Since this had happened in such a way, because there was absolutely no mill inside the palace, and flour and bread were not provided on account of the suddenness of the calamity, and since the daily expense of the multitude inside demanded an unavoidable supply, and at the same time the murmuring and the whisperings of those wily men amongst themselves, and the accusations made against Cantacuzenus were stirring up a great sedition, they were driven by necessity to make a truce with his son-in-law, the Emperor Palaiologos, before suffering the most extreme disasters. Therefore, matters having been so arranged within a few days, and a treaty having been established for both to share the empire, they began to approach and converse with one another inside and outside the palace dwellings without suspicion. For this reason, ^C however, confusion and a very unspeakable uproar were constantly arising from the Byzantines, who were insolently and brazenly insulting Cantacuzenus face to face, and leaping upon him, and promising to dye their own swords for his slaughter, unless he should quickly exchange the imperial attire for the monastic habit. Hence it is that, after not many days, he went out of the palace at night, wearing the monastic habit, along with his wife, he having been renamed Joasaph, and she Eugenia; he removed to the monastery of the Mangana, and she to the one known as that of Martha. There followed them not only all things necessary for sustaining life, but also as much wealth as happened to have been long accumulated in the royal treasuries—everything, one might say, that was portable for them—the Emperor Palaiologos making provision for their ^D safety.

XII. But we must briefly state what happened at that time to the Patriarch Philotheos, who was surnamed Kokkinos; for here the narrative must go back a little, in order to show those who have a desire to hear what sort of divine discipline fell upon him as well, for the reproof of an untimely and perilous boastfulness. For it happened in this way. It came to pass at the monastery called that of Krataios, that a holy relic, exhibiting an exemplar of all the members from head to foot, was found

^A by the nuns who were there. Regarding this, a great opinion had long flourished among the many, that it belonged to Andrew of Crete, who decorated the Church with not a few sacred hymns. For this had been buried in the floor of that holy temple, and had been covered in obscurity from ancient times, and was known to no one until the age of the present periods of time. But recently, I know not in which way it came to light—whether by some more divine inspiration, or from some need that arose to dig there, or I know not in what other manner. For it did not happen that I, having gone to the place, saw it with my own eyes, because the persecution taking place at that time, and the storm of the Church, had closed my doors so that it was not permitted to step out into free air for even a short moment to breathe. However, having heard of it a little later, it chanced that I was one of those who knew what had happened, while many were already noisily proclaiming it in public. Wherefore, since nothing of these things seemed in any way improbable, nor far removed from the time and the necessity, it pleased me to weave this also into the history, providing a very manifest proof from God ^B against the madness of the persecutors, and demonstrating the system of us who are persecuted to be entirely genuine.

XIII. For Philotheus Kokkinos, who was patriarch at that time, having seized upon the occasion as if it were a godsend, busied himself with establishing their Palamite polytheism. A great multitude, therefore, of those who loiter in the markets and crossroads having gathered, he stood in a high place and said: "It is necessary, O men and women and tender infants, not to believe that the appearance of this divine relic at the present time has come about without divine providence, but that what is doubtful to most because of the dispute of the adversaries might become manifest and clear and understood by all: what is the nature of that which we worship, which are many uncreated and insubstantial energies—which we call by another name, 'divinities'—subordinate to the divine substance, and that it is consistent with truth and piety that they are distinct both from it and from one another. But the reproaches cast against us by the adversaries are vain and deserving of condemnation. ^C Hence, moreover, there is an unmistakable divine suffrage and their condemnation: for they themselves, cast into hidden places and corners, pass a life worthy of all rebuke and entirely useless; but to us God gives, and permits us to glory, both in other matters and especially in this: the discovery of the present divine relic after many long periods of time." Having gone through these things and many more similar to them, he ordered the nuns, within a few days, to place those holy relics into a casket suitable for that purpose, within the small building prepared for it in the narthex of the monastery, and then thereafter to prepare also whatever contributes to complete the inauguration, and besides this, food and drink ^D sufficient to receive the entire clergy of the Church, and whoever of the bishops and presbyters and laity might be invited, together with him for the performance of the sacred liturgy.

^A And these matters proceeded in this way. But precisely as the day arrived on which the sacred liturgy was to be performed the following day, while all things were in abundant supply for those nuns who labored from morning until evening, it was entirely unwelcome, and in the least bearable, to the holy and only God of the holy ones that these things should be handled by the hands of men who worship a multitude of false gods, and who, being themselves strongly bound by long-standing impiety, always cause others to be led by their example to the performance of the liturgy of what was proposed. Wherefore, ^B even during that night, about the time of the crowing of the cocks, a rumor quietly crept through the city that Emperor Palaiologos had entered within the walls through the maritime gates of the shipyard facing the east, having made the voyage from Tenedos and Imbros with fast single-banked and two-banked ships, and one trireme, having set sail from Tenedos two days and two nights before. A tumult, therefore, gripped the Byzantines, compounded of both joy and sorrow, and all that usually happens in such circumstances—some fleeing in extreme terror out of fear, others pursuing gain quite openly. But fear above all gripped Patriarch Philotheos, and no small fear, because that event had occurred so unexpectedly and suddenly. For he who yesterday boasted that he would consecrate the temple for the confirmation of the Palamite heresy appeared today unholy, and indeed very much unworthy of God and of the priesthood. Wherefore, since such times do not allow planning or rational action, and especially when some divinely-sent scourge drives one, ^C he too, having immediately abandoned his settled state of mind, and having reflected that the only place unsuspected was that hidden corner of the Church of the Holy Wisdom known as the "furnace"—where also, it is customary, those approaching the divine baptism are anointed with the perfumed oil, which they prepare in five-year cycles, or sometimes in more or fewer years according to the will and need of the patriarchs appointed from time to time—fled into it, trembling and fearful. He who yesterday had been a fierce persecutor now hid himself for many days, rendered useless and utterly despairing of life.

XIV. It is therefore possible to reason out how God, not long after, having called to just judgment the one who boasted too much of manifest injustice, rebuked the boasts against the orthodox and the witticisms of his scurrilous tongue—boasts published ^D yesterday and the day before with such haughty bearing by Philotheos—and indeed, not only those he boasted then, but also those he had boasted before then and after then, and those he and all the Palamites around him and with him boast of continually. For who in his right mind could presume to count the manifest proofs always made by God against them, such that judgment might be inclined toward the conversion of the soul? Who would not be amazed, seeing their unbending and unconvertible nature in recognizing their own error? And these things came to pass in this manner.

^A XV. Of the sons of Cantacuzenus, the king Matthew for his part happened at that time to be tarrying in the regions beyond Didymoteichon and Orestias; while Manuel, who was second after him, being a despot by rank, was in the Peloponnese, already administering for the fifth year the prefecture of the Roman provinces and cities there. The husband of the sister, the son of Kontos of Cephalonia, was the prefect of the city of Aenos, and of whatever territory there was round about that was still free from barbarian invasion. Of the brothers-in-law of the sebastocrator, John was indeed at that time living with the king Palaiologos within the walls of Byzantium; but the other, Manuel, had long held the prefecture of Bizye, having received it from Cantacuzenus. The remaining cities, as many as had not yet been surrendered to the barbarians, obeyed the emperor Palaiologos.

XVI. In the meantime, about two months having passed, Callistus, as he is called, also arrived from Tenedos, having been appointed patriarch again by the emperor Palaiologos, as one who was, it seemed, zealous for him; yet he was not acceptable to him unless he acted according to his own will. For he wanted to strip all the bishops and priests in one stroke of their episcopal rank; but it was not at all tolerable to the emperor unless they should forgive each other their indictments by coming into one place. Yet late, and with great difficulty, the emperor’s humane design prevailed; not in every respect, but it did prevail. For Callistus reluctantly made peace with the bishops, but with Philotheus, called Kokkinos, who sat as patriarch after him, not at all, but rather, having assembled the same bishops who the year before had stripped this man of the patriarchate and had substituted the other in his place, ^B through these men he inflicted a penalty upon him, and despoiled him of his priesthood, and at the same time of his hope of recovering his dignity. He even added (being perhaps himself also excommunicated by him beforehand) an excommunication made divinely, calling him an adulterer and a thief and a plunderer of that power of which he was in no wise worthy. And these things indeed fared in this manner.

^C XVII. For my part, I approached the emperor regarding these matters and, having taken him aside, I spoke to him as much as was necessary concerning the divine dogmas of the Church, and I declaimed upon the innovation in piety which had been brought about by Cantacuzenus and Palamas; and I added that these were the things which had stirred up the wrath of God against Cantacuzenus, that he should be basely cast out of his kingdom and be shamefully treated by the vilest men. ^D Then I exhorted him to raise up again the fallen ancestral authority of the divine Church and to restore it to its pristine dignity, if he did not wish to fall into similar calamities himself. For since God had given him his ancestral kingdom without labor, it was necessary that he, in turn, should render back the ancestral piety to God, having exchanged the very difficult for the very easy. From this, for the rest of time, it would be possible to use the divine hand from above as an assistant for every action and plan. To these and similar things having much power of persuasion, when I realized that, although a start of some effectiveness was indeed present, it was by no means so very great, I added labor to labor.

^A I approached him twice, thrice, and four times, and by skillfully discussing matters consistent with what had been said before, I made him consent to undertake one of two courses of action. If, for the moment, the state of affairs did not grant sufficient security for such leisure as was needed, he should at least confirm with a more effective edict and mandate the piety of his parents and ancestors and restore it to that former state worthy of God, while mending the harmful plagues and novel evils that had crept in after his father’s death and were drawing souls away from divine dogmas. If, however, he wished to grant the necessary security for a more accurate investigation, I declared myself prepared to show most plainly, point by point, that the blasphemous and hitherto unheard-of writings of Cantacuzenus and Palamas, introduced violently and tyrannically into the Church of God, contained nothing sound or wholesome, but were born and fashioned by them as variegated and multiform monstrous innovations of concepts, syllables, and words, by means of which innovations they corrupted and mutilated the sentences of the saints, mixing their own perversity with them everywhere and altogether.

^B XVIII. After I had said these things and similar ones, and had persuaded him, the matter was secretly carried to ears that were alien and hostile, and it provoked envy and fear that were by no means endurable. Most of all, it terrified and infuriated Cantacuzenus, that pestilence of the Church of God and ardent defender of all wickedness. And he, naturally fearing that, now that he himself was no longer tyrant and his instructor Palamas was not present, those things which had been deliberated might prevail and take effect, secretly and with great zeal sent money to his son-in-law, the barbarian Hyrcanus in Bithynia, sufficient to fill that man’s hand and mind, and persuaded him to send Palamas, the guardian of wickedness, free to Byzantium, so that—to use the expression—a second voyage might be made, and he himself might become a battle-ally to his wicked dogma. And this seemed even to us better than to him; for with the proofs of the crimes emerging from shame now present, and since the invincible support of Cantacuzenus—or rather, his tyrannical and utterly absurd support—was no longer there, no pretext for flight would any longer be left to a man who was perturbed in every opinion and rationale, and inept in all matters.

^C XIX. Furthermore, the Empress Helena, having arrived at Byzantium from Tenedos, restrained the inclination of her husband, the Emperor Palaeologus, toward this matter, being unwilling herself in any way to be a spectator at the ignominy of her father, Cantacuzenus, with this sort of execration, nor yet able to reject the clandestine reports and entreaties he made to her. And this was what hindered the true restoration of the Church and the divine dogmas, along with my zeal in this affair. I think that, with God’s approval, the examination of those who are struggling for piety has been made all the more perfect. For not of those who begin

^A to struggle are the crowns and the prizes, but of those who are prepared to traverse the whole length of the stadium unto the end. Wherefore it often happens that while some labor, others inherit their toil without labor and enjoy it, since neither are the former punished by God, who proposes the struggles, for a remission in their course due to death intervening in their contests, nor do the later ones, by reason of the equality of the accounts by the distributor of the prizes, fail to receive each their own share, although we cannot in these matters investigate the hidden nature of God’s judgments.

XX. Perhaps, however, some might conjecture that in order to offer an opportunity for repentance to these impious persecutors of ours, the guardian of all, God, grants them time to remain here and imposes upon both sides their respective portions: for us, divine aid, and for them, just punishment. He calls them, therefore, to a better course of life by inflicting upon them, now one after another, ^B ceaseless calamities, that they might the more perceive their own perversity—for evil does not only rage against the good, but it also seditionizes and fights against itself—and now by disturbing them and scattering them suddenly from one place to another, distracting their whole mind to pay attention to their own domestic evils and follies, and not allowing them to dwell solely and entirely, as they always do, on the wicked insults and injuries with which they harass us.

XXI. But how could any one fail to wonder at that aspect of divine providence, that God should have allowed Cantacuzenus for so long that slight bit of construction in the most ^C great temple of the Wisdom of God—namely, on the part that was damaged—only until it was repaired, the roof which protected against the snows and rains brought down from the air? However, anything of those inner, most magnificent sacred precincts and holy altars that was entirely spent or destroyed, this has by no means been allowed by God to be rebuilt by his impious and profane hands; but, as they say, he fell away ignominiously in the middle of his path, and has left a great stain upon his life because of his innovation in the faith. For it was not fitting that those things which had been ruined as an evident proof of both his and his associates' impiety should be restored by him.

XXII. If, however, it is said that to Herod, the murderer ^D of children, the glorious and most expensive construction of the temple in Jerusalem was of old allowed by God, even though he had hands and a mind full of the blood of so many kinsmen and relatives, yet one must say that, since the ancestral religion stood whole for him at that time, he neither alienated himself from it, nor persuaded any others to do so. But this Cantacuzenus here has both openly abjured the ancestral piety himself, and—except for a few—has forced all the others, some with bribes and dishonest gains, others with threats and malicious punishments, to descend into the same precipice as himself.

XXIII. Since we have arrived at this point, it is not irrelevant

for us to describe the length and breadth of the holy image of the consubstantial Wisdom of God—I mean the Savior Christ—recently painted under the concave surface of the roof here. For I believe this account, too, will be a delightful listen for posterity, just as we thought we were bestowing a favor upon the more intelligent sort of men when, at the very beginning of the first ^A of our accounts and books in this history, we described the bronze equestrian statue standing on the column. For we ourselves were eyewitnesses to that work, and having measured it with our own hands, we easily composed the matter, providing the details about it there as we have already related. For I believe it is a worthy subject for inquiry, if someone looks up from below and cannot transmit the precise symmetry to his mind through his sight—since the spatial intervals between the viewer and the viewed object often deceive the soul, even though it otherwise seeks to collect traces of the truth and images from wherever and however it can, to cure the diseases of such visual deception. For from the crown of the head down to the tip of the beard—I mean the upper lip—it is twenty-eight spans in length and fourteen in breadth, while the first finger was eight and a half spans in length, ^B and the others were in proportion; each of the eyes was nearly three spans, and the nose was nearly eight. With these [dimensions] thus proposed as basic elements, it is possible for those of the painters who are more refined to deduce at once, according to the proportion of symmetry, how great the length and breadth of the other limbs and parts, and at the same time the configuration of the entire body of that divine image of the Savior, must be. And I have set this forth for the sake of the experience of those who encounter it, knowing it to be a most excellent tool for the knowledge of existing things—and if there should be found in them wise arguments of providence, as is also the opinion of Aristotle. For that philosopher says that sensation is productive of experience, and that experience becomes the provider and confirmer of the principles of every discipline through succession. For from this source have flowed the multiform springs of wisdom, and the ancient inventors of the disciplines have drawn forth knowledge of both celestial and terrestrial things, and, as far as it was possible, ^C have grasped the handles of the teaching of the various and manifold matters and doctrines. So be it; I, however, return to the thread of my narrative. XXIV. For Callistus, who had been patriarch, after his deposition and his surreptitious escape into the Galata fortress of the Latins, having found a suitable opportunity some time later, secretly escaped from there and sailed to Tenedos, intending to gratify the Emperor Palaiologos, and in place of any other gift, offering the burning ardor of the disposition residing in his heart, by the very deeds themselves demonstrating his burning zeal toward him; and [he was] explaining how it was possible to enjoy the patriarchal power and at the same time the benevolence and beneficence of the reigning Cantacuzenus, if he were willing to make him a participant in the resignation of Mat- ^D

if he wished to communicate with him concerning the royal proclamation of Matthew the son, but he chose to suffer the uttermost, upholding his ancestral rights. And had he not procured his own safety by a clandestine flight, he would have instantly been enclosed in a dark prison, a neighbor to violent death. And, to cut the story short, as he spent an entire year there ^A performing all the other customary rites for patriarchs, he did not neglect to send writings to the Byzantines, setting forth the injustice done to him; calling Philotheus Coccinus an open adulterer, and the bishops betrayers of the authority of the canons and laws, and despisers of God, because by yielding to the emperor's unjust gifts, they confounded the affairs of the Church and also those of the lawful kingdom. Furthermore, he subjected them to anathema and the excommunication of God. Seeing these [decrees] sent frequently from Tenedos like arrows, Coccinus, who had recently obtained the patriarchal authority, was indignant and, counter-maneuvering, did not neglect to do the same. For he gathered the neighboring bishops, and as many as happened to be residing in Byzantium in any fashion, and issued decrees and sent them everywhere, condemning Callistus with anathema and excommunication. ^B He sent such decrees especially to the monks dwelling on Mount Athos, ordering them, moreover, that even if he should wish to come to them, they should not receive him, as he was lawfully expelled for Massalian decrees and did not appear before the courts, but insolently and tyrannically commanded and anathematized and excommunicated. Therefore, it was necessary, because of these things, and because he had already been cast out by synodical curses and divine condemnation, to drive him away from the mountain like a pestilence.

XXV.

^A rouse the heart that wishes to be asleep and at rest, but clearly shows that God, who makes hidden things manifest, whenever He wishes to instill understanding into those to whom it has happened to be ignorant of the sound knowledge of God, might also render that tome sent a little while ago by them against the Massalians and Bogomils caught in the act on this mountain more worthy of inspection, and that the root of the heresy that has been fanned into such great wickedness may be known to all.

XXVI. For a certain monk of those who serve this Scorpio, surnamed Bardarius, having already become subject to a disease close to death, lay with his limbs broken and was vexed by the most extreme pains of the body; then for twenty whole days he abstained from food and drink, lay voiceless, and was drawing his last breath; yet he did not die, but his body was swollen and a most terrible blackness was already spreading over his face. At length, astonished by the miracle of the thing, those presiding over that dwelling inquired whether he might not have some unconfessed sin of his own hidden in the innermost part of his heart, and therefore God, caring for him, did not permit him to die and be delivered to the eternal fire. ^B And he, having understood, and having lifted his eyes a little, wailed vehemently, and with difficulty moving his tongue, said the following: "You know the synod of the men dwelling on this mountain that was held here twelve years ago. At that time, therefore, when Scorpio also fell under suspicion, when I was asked whether I knew him to have been an associate of those who were then caught, the Massalians and the Bogomils here, I denied that I knew, although I had precise knowledge of the matter. And I added an oath to my declaration, and I preferred to be separated from Christ in my extreme misery ^C for the sake of his friendship, neither fearing the divine punishments nor revering the exhortations of wise men." Therefore, having begun, he recounted the impure and detestable deeds perpetrated at that time together with the band of Massalians, to narrate which entirely does not seem to me to be enough time, since the history of the other events draws me quite strongly in another direction. For it is possible for everyone to collect in detail both the mind and the plan and the action and the speech and the power of the evil and the long-suffering of God and whatever else of that kind, if anyone wishes to approach him who was previously present at the apprehension of those young Massalians and Bogomils, who were clearly convicted on the divine mountain, of whom some were punished, ^D and others driven out from there, and at the same time saw in this second instance—the one concerning the conviction of Scorpio—God performing miracles beyond the custom of things for the confirmation of that first man. For both are set forth at the end of this present book of ours, which narrates the Roman history; for we did not judge it necessary to transfer them into another narrative, but it was fitting that these limbs and clauses also be in the orations, and we have copied these sentences just as they were, without changing their nature, from where we took them, so as not to be interrupted, except that one thing alone had to be signaled, that this confession was made under those witnesses, and he soon breathed forth his soul, so that a judgment was also brought to bear

according to the light that ^A had dawned upon those whom it chanced to be more intelligent, lest we believe that these violent and final spirits were prepared for man by God for any other reason than that he might proclaim those things which were spoken. Nevertheless, after this second tome that had recently arrived from the mountain was read aloud in the hearing of Callistus the patriarch and the bishops who were with him, it once again cast the patriarch into a rage, and [the messenger] was dismissed without achieving anything, while the bishops who were with him said nothing, but appeared like mute men or stones devoid of sense—or, to speak more appropriately, such are the current judges of sacred dogmas, possessing the nature of cattle and the playfulness of petulant children. But enough of these matters; what happened to the travelers will be related in its own time and place. Now I shall return to that other topic.

^B XXVII. A certain bishop from the Latins had arrived at the court of the Emperor—I speak of John Palaeologus—on account of a friendship that had existed between them previously. He was a man well versed in the extent and quality of the schooling which the doctors of the Latins possess regarding dogmatic inquiries into the divine scriptures. He used to say in his daily conversations, both to the Emperor and to any others who happened to be wiser, privately and publicly, that there was much talk among the Latins concerning this queen of cities and all those among its inhabitants who profess education; and specifically, how they have always been accustomed to be deceived from on high, and to yield to other heresies and innovations of ecclesiastical dogmas at different times, just as leaves of trees are tossed about by all the winds. ^C "And now," he said, "we have heard that a certain Palamas is introducing spurious new-fangled notions against the divine dogmas. And these new-fangled notions are not only shameful, but also manifold and composed of a multiform madness, so that it is true to say that whatever happens to align with him in certain ways is more worthy of condemnation than [the teachings of] Sabellius and Arius, and all who have lent their support to Eunomius, Nestorius, and Apollinarius. For they are indeed consonant with them, as is well known, but they diverge into different and more absurd exaggerations. And that which is most illogical is that, where this man ought most of all to be ashamed, in those areas where he has surpassed all of them in the exaggerations of his blasphemies, he instead puts himself forward, for his own justification and defense, with the claim—a very strong one, he thinks—that he does not speak in complete unison with them. And that these things are not in unison with them, he shouts; but that they are far worse than theirs, he is silent about, jesting, as one might say, where no place for jesting should exist. I would wish, therefore, that this man had come into my view. If, then, we are close to your heart and care, do not take it ill, but be prepared to set forth the entire inquiry for me."

^D XXVIII. Without delaying, the Emperor fulfilled such a request of the Latin the very next day, having made preparations to converse with Palamas, and saying that the Latin himself would be a listener to his words. Now, once the conversation had been instituted, having stood at a short distance and...

^A in private, the Latin said he had heard Palamas speak many things, but that they were spoken in vain, and were jumbled together and concocted from elsewhere, so that we were at a loss to declare whether one should award the victory for perversity to the quality of these things or to their quantity. Nevertheless, he asked that he might be a silent auditor himself while Palamas disputed with me. For this reason, on the following day, the Great Logothete, one of those who pride themselves on their nobility, came at the summons of the Emperor, and me as well—who was not yet entirely free from my customary head ailments, though indeed I was now relieved of them. And since it was not possible to evade him, I arose and departed, for what reason I knew not at all, nor did I busy myself to learn. For the Empress Helena had commanded that the cause of the summons should not be known to me beforehand, so that I might not prepare for my arrival with premeditation, and so that some superficial luster might not be cast upon the demonstration of Palamas. For, on account of ^B her own father, Cantacuzenus, she too was overly partial to Palamas, and for the most part she opposed the opinion of her spouse regarding whatever pertains to religion. Very recently, however, as I was entering the imperial palace, I was able to see that Palamas was sitting there prepared for disputes. And so, given the fact that I was still suffering from my head pains and seeing myself involved in such an unexpected contest, at first it seemed better to return home for the time being, after having little regarded those contrived summonses; but in order that we might ^C not give cause for suspicion of cowardice to mocking men, we strengthened our resolve once again and recovered ourselves, committing everything to God.

XXIX.

NICEPHORUS GREGORAS BYZANTINE HISTORY BOOK THIRTY, AND THE FIRST OF THE DOGMATIC BOOKS.

Narrative of the monk Nicephorus Gregoras concerning the discussion which he held with Palamas before the emperor Lord John Palaiologos. The narrative is introduced as if by another person.

^A I. "Come, Agathonicus, best of friends, you of all people could most easily relate and convey that discussion which took place yesterday before the excellent emperor between Gregoras and Palamas."

"Most willingly, my friend Theotime, if it pleases you and you have the leisure, since it requires no small attention. For it is indeed a varied matter, demanding keen hearing, and it is invigorated for the perception of divine thoughts. I do not know if I could recount to you everything that was said there, as some things have been submerged in the abyss of forgetfulness; but I will recount for you, briefly and in summary, those things which are more worthy of memory and which it is most necessary for you to hear."

^B II. When Gregoras had just recently recovered some strength from his customary headaches, the Grand Logothete came to summon him from the emperor for some reason or other; and since he could not make an excuse, he rose and went, and I myself followed him in order to hear. It was late in the day, after sunset. When Gregoras had arrived and offered the customary greeting to the emperor, he sat down. Now it happened that Palamas also entered at that very moment, I know not whether because he was summoned there to speak by a long-standing appointment, or by chance, as is the way with most things that happen in the world. He, having imprudently gathered up archaic matters and all that had been swept away by the rivers of deep oblivion, in no way

^A taking hold of the necessary needs, and having played the braggart, as was his custom, and having prided himself for the sake of praise concerning his own sojourn in the monastery and his discussion with Barlaam, and having filled the ears of those present with certain such things, and having shown—as if by design—that the aim of his visit at that time was for the sake of vain display, he then fell silent.

And that I may pass over what lies between, and whatever might stand in the way of the preceding necessary points, having provided an introduction to these unexpected and extemporaneous matters, and having laid out beforehand what was appropriate—and Gregoras having asked what he should say next, in accordance with the desire of the most divine Emperor—the Emperor said, "Although I had intended to turn my mind to other undertakings, yet, seeing you all now gathered here, it seems more fitting to me to learn from you-all some part, however small, of the ecclesiastical doctrines concerning which some people are in disagreement." For he said that he had heard that no trifling disputes had arisen, being stirred up in various ways concerning volumes and writings which—he said—had been brought forth, I know not how, but were rejected by many learned men, who were ^B strenuously insisting on demonstrating that they contained certain dangerous innovations in the dogmas of theology. "I wished, therefore, to carry out a correction by convoking a synod for a colloquy. But since circumstances do not permit this at the present time, I wish to hear, myself, from you—who for whatever reason are gathered here—about a certain matter. For that volume which contains the oft-repeated contentions and disputes, it happened that it was brought forth while I was staying in Thessaloniki, in such a way that I could neither understand what it intended, nor whether it presented true or false things to one who might wish to examine it accurately. I fear, however, lest divine judgment should also attach to me, because while I was later present for a time with the council, with another presiding, I unwillingly affixed my signature, having been compelled by him; for I pass over the events that intervened, as I cannot avoid the constraints of time."

Gregoras, replying, says: "Indeed, since for a long time I did not greatly dare to have the mysteries of theology upon my lips, but dreaded both their report and judgment, I immediately withdrew ^C as if from fire. For when it befell those great and very learned teachers of that Church to shake off the undertaking entirely, would we not be clearly mad if we wished to handle such things, when we have not been able to learn even a few of the things which they have? And so that I may take up my own account and narrate it more completely, how it happened that I myself was from the beginning disposed toward such a proposal: since, after the death of your most divine and blessed father, I mean of that illustrious Emperor, the affairs of the Romans were being led into civil strife, and at the same time the most wretched waves were breaking upon the divine dogmas of the Church, and as if a tempest and night had arisen, everything was shrouded in darkness, in such a way that, as the common saying goes, no one could gather from the stars ^D whither he was being carried, and when all emerging and falling things, insofar as they were in conjunction, roused, and especially those things which each person hoped for, into danger

^A (for in a schism, the poet says, the very wicked attain honor, while he who in any way partakes of the better suffers things worthy of lamentation and enjoys tragic disasters), it seemed best to me to choose the quiet life, having abandoned the imperial theaters. For as the one who provoked and stirred up a contrary battle from there was not before our eyes, being hidden in obscurity, I thought that the portion of our calamity resulting from it would cease. Wherefore, because it did not at all happen that those to whom I might give counsel were obedient, I myself performed my own duties. For it is easy even for the most wicked men and those leading a debased life to make turmoil out of peace, but to restore peace from turmoil is not at all easy and ready, even for the very wise. The former is carried by the autonomy of nature—and it is acknowledged that nature is disorderly and unstable—but the latter is steered by education and wise, deliberate, and sober reasoning. Wherefore the one even fabricates non-existent pretexts, providing provisions for battles; the other tries to cut away even existing ones, just as a physician arranging treatment at the root before the growth. ^B Since it also happened that Palamas, with his entire faction and separation, was subjected to a divine decree of excommunication by the two patriarchs and by all the bishops who were present at that time, I even more strongly advised and confirmed for myself a life of quietude, as it alone possessed the easiest and most reasonable way to separate with decency from the faction and communion of the profane. But the storm of the Church had already ignited a persecution—and the most terrible and grievous of persecutions—so that, because of this, not only did the patriarch, having been exiled, meet his end by a violent death, but also as many of the bishops and presbyters as held an unshakable resolve in the face of these dangers were chased and scattered, one here and another there, throughout the inhabited world. I forbear to mention those who happened to die in prison and in darkness, and all those who perished by violent deaths through famine and thirst and every lack of necessities. ^C And what is greater, that—O earth and sun!—they were not even permitted to obtain burial by their relatives, except for those who were buried secretly. And even from these the dogs of Laconia did not abstain, roaming about and tracking them, but even some of these they dug up. Thus, this was the most grievous of all persecutions. For what more could they accomplish, venting the ignorance of their misguided soul upon a body devoid of sensation? For to die is necessary; but as for living or being buried, neither of these is necessary. Wherefore the former nature accomplishes even against the will of men, while the latter, being placed in the will of the survivors, becomes a sign of either madness or prudence. We too are afflicted by such a persecution, we who are unwilling to indulge in the absurd novelty of words of this Palamas. Indeed, all the evils which we have experienced because of this [are...].

I do not think should be consigned to human ears, as God, who observes what is hidden, knows this accurately. Nevertheless, since by a more divine will you, O Emperor, have assumed the paternal lot of the empire, and at the same time we have recovered for a little while, we who, worn out by the endurance of dangers, had not cast away life, and since the stains and destructions of those decrees and volumes have come into our sight, and we have now clearly perceived both their fame and those insults and whatever false accusations they pour forth against the divine books: it is therefore necessary that that volume be now brought into the middle, so that our discourse should not proceed rashly and in vain, having no bottom or foundation.

^B III. Then the emperor: "We do not seek," he said, "in the present matter the composition of some complete work, but rather traces and mementos of a doctrine that is, as it were, symbolic and obscure. For otherwise we would have gathered together theaters of bishops and patriarchs and presbyters; and the matter would not have been done in a hidden place and a corner, as it is being done here." But, nevertheless, that also will be in its proper time. Palamas then, replying, attempted to turn the discourse to Barlaam and to ^C demonstrate the living from the dead; but he was rejected by Gregoras when he sought to take refuge in obscure matters, it being allowed to bring things placed before the eyes to the present cause. Wherefore, having turned to another point, he spoke many other things, and at the same time attempted to test him by asking whether there were any who denied that the divine essence and the divine efficiency were different: concerning which matter he especially wished Gregoras to speak.

IV. Then Gregoras, turning to the emperor: "Since there are many studies," he said, "O most august prince, which he has recently commanded to revive, having long been dead, and which he has discovered though they were never seen before, with the ruling hand as his ally, I think that his opinion, which concerns many gods, will suffice for this outline which we are undertaking. For, desiring to explain the dogma that is about the incarnation of the Word of God, and at the same time to introduce many gods, ^D he contends that efficiency is a subservient, uncreated divinity, and one lacking essence, and entirely different from that divine and blessed essence, and, he says, visible in itself to the eyes of the body; and while it accomplishes all things, it is itself accomplished by the essence that is set above it, and is moved just as machines move that can be moved. Then he divides that one efficiency into many, or rather infinitely into infinite parts, just as a genus into diverse species, and by a general name he calls them all efficiencies, but separately and individually [he calls them] power, life, empire, wisdom, faculty, light, truth, and in a word, whatever names and concepts are worthy of God; even if they receive their notation from different principles, yet they hold the same place among themselves, because they are in almost no way diverse regarding the signification of the subject; he calls them all, in a word, diverse and uncreated divinities. Being reproved, therefore, by

^A more intelligent men, just as Marcellus the Galatian, and Photinus, and Eunomius, who, though they differed among themselves in their views, yet broke out and conspired equally against piety—he now asserts all these things at once, as if blending them into one mixing bowl of wickedness. He fashions tricky replies, leaping from one thing to another, and surpassing all the impious in the sheer bulk of his greater wickedness; and while it is necessary, on account of a superior, to seek hiding places, he, conversely, provides himself with a pretext of escape through this change for the worse, and he endeavors to agree with no one. He acts just like someone who, when accused of theft, denies being a thief, but declares himself a sacrilegist and a parricide—not knowing that the parricide and the sacrilegist are subject to a much greater punishment than one who has stolen private property.

Nevertheless, let him say now where in the holy Scripture of the saints he finds explicitly many uncreated divinities, distinct from that divine essence, just as I now bring forward these witnesses who say that there is only one uncreated thing, namely the divine and three-hypostasized nature, while all other things are created and subsequent to it. From which it is possible to learn this very thing: that the uncreated is one, and not many, and at the same time that when we predicate of God essence and essential and substantial and nature and natural and innate, these have a simple and singular force, and are in no way whatsoever different from the concept of essence and nature, except by the pronunciation of the name. For these terms are predicated even of composite and created things, yet not in the necessary way, but in a way convenient to them, with which that which is and that which is not sometimes cohere.

And first, the great Athanasius says: ^B "The holy Trinity alone is by nature uncreated, and eternal, and unmoved, and immutable." And again, the same: "It is impious to attribute growth to the uncreated." And further: "For that which is uncreated is called uncreated by nature, admitting neither growth nor diminution." And after a little: "Only the essence of the Godhead is thought of as uncreated." And further: "The holy Trinity of the Godhead alone is by nature uncreated." We have not heard, even to this day, of a second God. Whatever the Father has, these the Son also has: the Most High, the King, the Lord, the Almighty. For he who is these by nature is also uncreated. "The divine alone is uncreated and incorporeal and by nature invisible." "The divine and uncreated nature of God surpasses the creation." And we have defined the holy Trinity as being of the uncreated nature; but all things which are called and are and are named after it, we have defined as being of the created.

^C No one, I suppose, can conceive of a distinction between one uncreated thing and another uncreated thing. But the uncreated nature alone, which is believed in the Father and the Son and the holy Spirit, is superior to every nominal signification. Nothing is uncreated except the divine nature. But if it is God, it is altogether uncreated; and if it is created, it is not God. In the uncreated nature are understood the wonderful things and names: the Father and the Son and the holy Spirit. We have been taught to believe that everything created is partaker of no divine nature, but that only the uncreated...

^A nature is to be revered and worshipped, whose sign and mark it is neither to have a beginning of existence nor an end. God is the maker and provider and sustainer of all things, the only uncreated one, who is hymned and glorified in the Father and the Son and the holy Spirit. Everything that exists is either created or uncreated. And if indeed it is created, it was entirely created by another; but if it is uncreated, this would be that which created the created things. And what else could this be but God? One Trinity is unchangeable, while other things are changed from it. The Trinity alone is eternal and uncreated and unbegotten. That which effects is one in the one essence of the perfect Trinity, but other things are begotten and created. For this reason, we ourselves do not worship everything that has fallen below the essence of God. For I will tell you regarding the Spirit what I also said regarding the Son: the abundance of God is either greater, or equal, or less than God. And it is not greater, for there is nothing greater than God; nor is it less, for since you would place it among the number of created things—for that which is less than God is a creature. To be understood as creator and uncreated belongs to God alone. To these let there be added the saying of the divine Cosmas, the venerable singer: "Let us all, the faithful, be summoned by the lofty proclamation of the uncreated and innate wisdom of God." And we shall speak later, as we proceed, of things similar to this.

V. But Palamas, ^B being unable to bring forward any scriptural testimony, attempted on his own peril to argue for things that lacked all argument, by establishing his own unheard-of positions. "And who," he asks, "is ignorant that God is the one uncreated thing?" This is what he means when he says that there is nothing uncreated except the divine nature. "For if we do not understand it in this way, then we shall not call the divine hypostases uncreated, since the hypostasis is not nature; for indeed, being asked what an essence is, we point to a man, perhaps, or a stone, and in this way we mix up the essence with all the natural things that are in it." And they claim that the divine Athanasius also said: "Holy, good, uncreated, inexplicable, incorporeal, lacking the distinction of time, eternal, creating, just, lacking beginning and end, uninvestigated, infinite, unknown, will, power, ^C providence, wisdom, life, and such things"—these are not called essence individually, but rather ^D that which is referred back to one from two or more things, which are also called the composition and completion of the divinity. And in addition to these, he claimed to say that John of Damascus also clearly differentiates the uncreated operation of the uncreated nature from this nature itself. And what need is there to recount everything in order, which, adding one thing to another, he has falsely stated, while he overtly mocked and slandered the divine books of all the saints? "One thing indeed," said Gregoras to him, "let this proposition be a reproach to you from the beginning. For your majesty has been caught in the very act of theft, excellent Palamas, having no"

assistance ^A from the divine Scriptures to show that the uncreated things are not one, but many. This is the surest resource for anyone who may wish to shoot at you, being bereft of all Scriptural aid, having chosen a line of battle against piety. For the Scriptures would not be fighting against themselves, if one were to look at them with fitting knowledge; for in this very respect you establish yourself as heir to shame, inasmuch as you neither have any Scriptural proof on behalf of yourself and what you have breathed forth from your own belly—novel modes of speech—nor do you use any scientific method, but are carried along by a certain drunken and unstable autonomy, frequently being shifted and tossed from a foundation that has no standing to another that has no standing. For we have been taught that in theological dogmas, the definitions and rules of scientific demonstrations are the dogmatic statements of the wise teachers of the Church. Therefore, he who does not follow such definitions has nothing from which he can prove his piety to us.

VI. ^B And let this be the first proof of your impiety. Secondly, when we said that the divine nature is one, uncreated, and brought forward many books of many saints, harmonious in words and thoughts, for an evident and irrefutable proof of the question proposed, you were not only unable to find any opposition yourself, nor to show that any one of all the saints says that there are more than one uncreated thing, but you also pervert and despise those who do say this by your argumentation, and you put forward a fraudulent defense, being forced to hide, yet unable to do so. For, in the first place, you were caught here not only taking and proposing things from a baseless assumption—which is a proof of extreme weakness—but also, when the inquiry was about the uncreated with the article, to show that the uncreated is one, you yourself, neglecting the article, ^C brought forward this:"Who does not know that God is one uncreated?" And through such an answer of yours, you confirm one of two things: either that you believe there are many and infinite and subordinate and diverse uncreated deities, and as if "God" were a certain idea, you say it is an uncreated name, and the deity being divided into diverse deities, infinitely superior and subordinate, just as [one divides] the general animal into species that are diverse in nature—rational and irrational, living in water and without water, terrestrial and aerial—not knowing that the divine, being simple and incorporeal, is by necessity indivisible, and that it is impossible for anyone, even by laboring much, to show that that one uncreated and altogether indivisible essence and deity is divided either into what is subordinate or what is superior; ^D or, secondly, that among the many uncreated gods and deities believed in by you, you say that the Creator of the universe, who is believed in by us, is one of those many. And neither of these is far from the height of impiety.

^A VII. Thirdly, you are caught holding the opinion that divine substances lack essence, just as you have been caught many times before, in such a way that the substances appear to you not to possess subsistence. For that which lacks essence also lacks subsistence; and consequently, when you relegate those unessential deities to an infinite number of uncreated deities, you are also holding them to be substances. And as you have been caught writing many times, you are so bold as to say here also that the divine nature is not only three-substantial, but even multi-substantial, worshiping substances without essence and deities without subsistence.

^B VIII. Fourthly, since you use the examples of a man and a stone, and contend that essence is comprised of those things which are seen in it in a natural way, you are caught believing that the comprehension of accidents is also that same divine essence, just as with the stone you put forward, which contains weight, coldness, color, length, breadth, depth, and whatever else of this kind one might conceive; a notion even worse in its absurdity than the former.

IX. Furthermore, there is a fifth absurdity, by which you confirm both your own ignorance and the doctrine of the many gods through your distortion of the words of the great Athanasius. For he says that all those many names refer to one thing, namely, to the essence. But you, imprudently, have brought against yourself the very thing you were about to bring forward in your own defense. You are so unrefined and truly uneducated. ^C Then, he calls these things the material and the completion of the divinity, yet not of divinities which, as you wish, differ from the essence and from one another. For how could he who says that they refer to one thing—namely, the essence—say such things?

X. There is, moreover, a sixth absurdity, in that you also slander the divine Damascene, which will be spoken of by us more clearly later on. For it will be demonstrated that 'to signify' and 'to differ' are not the same thing, even if you burst from shouting, you who mix up the most remote things and slander that divine man by saying that his uncreated energy differs from his uncreated nature. ^D For no one at all, even through much searching in his writings, could ever find—not with great difficulty, nor with any effort, even regarding the smallest of things—anything similar to these things now invented and set forth by you, Palamas, you detestable and insidious slanderer. Therefore, it is one of two things: either you blaspheme willingly, or you are ignorant of these things unwillingly, being—as it seems—still illiterate and entirely ignorant of the first elements of wisdom. The former is incurable, while the latter is half-miserable and curable; if, therefore, you yourself wish it, choose the latter. For I hope and pray that I shall see one of two things: either your return, if you wish, or your destruction, if you do not. For the former will deliver you from eternal ruin, and the latter will deliver others from harm. How, then, shall we attempt to persuade a man of such a kind and of such an age, or how must we not surely despair of a useful outcome to this prospect, lest our labor become in vain? Yet I wish to continue.

^A I wish, therefore, at the beginning of the discourse to be delivered, to establish for you ^B a preliminary account, and to instruct you—ignorant one that you are—by starting from the very simple elements and sounds, just as schoolmasters do with children. This I do so that you may not constantly hear from the many that Platonic gibe, applied to yourself, "How unlearned you are, friend, and how, in your lack of understanding, you do not follow us." For indeed, although you do not seem to have entirely neglected the teaching of the divine Basil himself, you have blundered in knowledge and ^C piety; for he says that one should familiarly make use of poets, historians, rhetoricians, and all sorts of men, from whom any fruit might redound to the care of the soul. For just as dyers, when they have prepared with certain treatments whatever is to receive the dye, only then apply the color, whether it be purple or something else; in the same way, we also, if we wish for the glory of the beautiful to remain indelible in us, must first be prepared by these things that are outside, and then finally listen to the holy and secret doctrines. And just as we are accustomed to seeing the sun in water, so we shall turn our eyes toward the light itself. ^D It is said, he says, that even that most renowned Moses—whose name is greatest among all men for wisdom—after he had exercised his mind in the learning of the Egyptians, only then approached the contemplation of the Existent. In a similar way, they say that in later times the wise Daniel, having learned the wisdom of the Chaldeans in Babylon, then touched upon divine teachings. Since, therefore, you have not learned what you ought to have learned when you were fifteen, and indeed did not—to use the expression of that wise man from Attica—grow up to be a citizen at seven years old, but rather, as the proverb has it, you leapt at once from the oar to the speaker’s platform and the command—by which I mean that you engaged in theology with unwashed hands and a rotten mind—come now, even in old age, be taught by us these elementary and primary sounds of letters. Perhaps, having become more learned, you might perceive the divine Scripture, and no longer be an annoyance to piety, leading the masses to things that are suitable for the dead—who dwell below the earth—rather than for those above; for it is lawful to define and correct opposites with opposites. For instance, when Charmides of Larissa heard someone telling how he had seen living eels in boiling water, "Shall we, therefore," he said, "boil them in cold water?" Since, therefore, you yourself remained ignorant of doctrine at fifteen, do not, now that you have passed the age of sixty, disdain to show yourself a student today of these simple and primeval sounds and elements. ^A These would certainly be nouns and verbs. For first, they say, one must lay down a solid foundation: what is a noun and what a verb; then, what is an affirmation, a negation, a declarative statement, and an argument, and whatever else is accomplished from this human combining and composition of nouns and verbs. For sounds are, as it were, shadows of things, shaped according to the motions of the underlying realities and blended with nouns and verbs; for indeed, it is not by nature that names ^B

^A nor even nature itself, but by the convention and agreement of prudent men, that the signs significant of things are assigned to realities, according to Gregory of Nyssa.

XI. For it is necessary, by means of the learned, who among us and among the outsiders speak in agreement concerning the scientific precision of words, to bring forward for you, who are unlearned, a preparation for such instruction, so that we might finally be able to reach your obtuse and most unlearned mind. For Basil the Great says that the power of the learning of the outsiders is a wall for doctrines, not allowing them to become easily captured or plundered by those who desire it. And again the divine Chrysostom says: "When the soul is sick with bastard doctrines, then there is great need for learning, not only for the sake of internal security, but also against external wars." And again the divine Maximus: "Without the power of logic, there is no scientific knowledge," he says, "and without knowledge, faith does not stand." Do you see the cause of your blasphemies, man? It is nothing else than total ignorance of these men—I mean the learning of the wise men and theologians, both those among the outsiders and those among us; learning which, since you are ignorant of it, it is necessary that you at least be taught here by us.

XII. When these things were said, some of those who were present in the council, who were very close friends of Palamas and fellow-thinkers and associates with him, whispered into the ear of Gregoras, that he should not mock or deride so much a bishop with grey hair. Gregoras, therefore, pausing for a little while and being obedient to the remark, took up his speech again, and indeed he says: "There are, to be sure, in speech, symbols of the affections in the soul, and the written characters are symbols of those in speech, which indeed, while being inarticulate by nature, becomes articulate by convention, through [the use of] nouns and verbs invented by later men. For the reasoning of truth has judged that those things which are ^B first by nature, being simple, are also prior to those which are conventional and composite. Therefore, the affections in the soul, or concepts, are prior to the meaningful nouns and verbs in speech. For concepts are innate and flow from an autochthonous source, while those [latter things] are later and acquired, which men would not have needed if they had the faculty of demonstrating the motions of the soul to one another. For it is necessary, says the great Dionysius, to know according to the true reason that we use letters, syllables, words, writings, and discourses because of the senses; so that when our soul is moved by the powers of understanding toward intelligible things, ^C the senses together with the perceptible things become superfluous. For because our nature is encompassed by a fleshly cloak, being unable to be manifested, it is necessary, says Gregory, that just as if by signs, we impose by convention the qualities of nouns upon things, and by these we communicate the motions of the mind to one another. And for this reason, we have imposed the name 'heaven' upon one of the beings, and 'earth' upon another, and so on for others. And whatever is to be referred to something, or to act, or to be acted upon, we signify all these by their own proper terms, so that the motion of the soul may not remain ^D common and unknown among us."

^A For when God led man into creation, He bestowed upon him intellect and sense. Of these, the intellect, which preserves its identity in relation to the things in the world, has no need of speech, but possesses an immediate knowledge of them; for just as these things have their nature, so it apprehends that which can be understood from the very thing itself. But the need to compel men to communicate things to one another and to declare the mysteries of the desiring soul determined that one should use sense as a mediator of thoughts and things. For this, receiving the forms of external things with its own proper instruments and—so to speak—inscribing them in the imaginative book of the soul, ^B asserts that it places these images therein in place of the prototypes, hastening to make actions conform to the thoughts. Wherefore it also had need of a voice capable of being assimilated to the thoughts and applied to the things. And this does not become easy for a rational animal in any other way than through articulate speech, which, by the agreement of talented men, has been formed toward one or another religion and dialect, so that it happens from this that it is not the same among all, but is always one thing among some and another among others. And thus, as I said, the need for articulate speech, becoming a mediator between the two, [brings together] the intellect of the listener with that of the speaker accurately, according to the proportion of each to each; for this, being formed and fashioned by words and names, becomes speech, defining the indefinite and dissolute nature of matter with various forms, beginnings, and endings, and thus declaring to those outside the inner will of each.

Yet Wisdom, having come after from God to men, did not allow it to be carried about in disorder, as it happened, and according to the differing will of each, but subjected it to laws and rules according to the agreements among each people, in some of which, at times ^C and in some places, the meanings follow not only according to religion, but also according to homonymy and polyonymy. For it is one of two things: either the same things are known by different names by those who use the same dialect, or different things by a single appellation, or—of these, neither to one nor the other—different things to different people. Since these things are so, and have been thus presupposed, the topic of language must be brought back for us to the previous trace of the argument. And that is to show the concord and harmony of those many names and their reference to that which is properly so called, namely, that divine and blessed essence, and not according to that impious Eunomius, who says that the name of "unbegotten" is the substance of the Divinity, and [not according to] your thinking that these are divinities brought forward—all of them—different from the essence and uncreated, which are findings and inventions of men. ^D For immediately against him the great Basil says: "If 'unbegotten' is a name, it is not an essence; for names are the indicators of essences, not the essences themselves. But if 'unbegotten' were itself an essence, let them tell its name; for we understand not from the essences, but from the names and the operations, and especially those that are incorporeal." You see from what follows that he says it is from the operations, observed like the likeness of a body

incorporeal and invisible things? ^A Hear, moreover, what Gregory of Nyssa also says concerning names: “The divine nature, whatever it is in its essence, is one, simple, uniform, incomposite, and beyond our sensory grasp. And since we signify only those things which are understood by the use of names, and since it is not possible to distinguish those things which are beyond our knowledge with certain signifying designations, we are forced to uncover the notion that is born in us concerning the Divine with many and diverse names, as far as it is possible.” For this reason, we name Him variously—or, to speak more accurately, equivocally—Lord, God, Just, Powerful, Long-suffering, True, Merciful, and other such things. But such names are entirely matters of convention ^B and are not by nature, as we have already demonstrated. And the great Athanasius says elsewhere that “to be God is secondary to the nature.” And the great Gregory in his Theology states that simplicity is not a nature in God; for the one part signifies his power of vision, the other that it is not composite. And to say it simply, there is no name [of God] that is not secondary to the divine nature. For a name becomes a sort of circumscribed boundary of essence and nature, but that uncircumscribed nature cannot be enslaved to the circumscriptions of names. And in another place, the divine Gregory of Nyssa speaks as follows ^C concerning these same names: “If the essence existed before the operations, and we understand the operations through which we have perception, and we express them by words as far as is possible, what fear is left that we should call the names secondary to the things? For if we do not interpret anything said about God before we understand it, and we do understand through those things which we have learned from the operations, and the power exists before the operation, and the power depends on the divine will, and the will is set within the authority of the divine nature—do we not clearly learn that the appellations that signify the names are added to the things, and that the voices are like shadows of the things, ^D shaped according to the movements of the underlying realities?” And that these things are so, the divine Scripture clearly persuades us through the great David, who invokes the divine nature by certain proper and innate names understood from His operation: “The Lord,” he says, “is compassionate and merciful, long-suffering and full of mercy.” What, therefore, do these mean: that they have the significance of operation or of nature? No one, I suppose, would say [they signify] anything other than operation. When, therefore, did God, having performed the operations of compassion and mercy, receive the name from the operation? Was it before the life of men? And who was there needing mercy? Rather, it was certainly after sin was committed. But sin is after the creation of man; therefore, after the creation of man, the operation of showing mercy and the name of mercy also arose. Do you see? For this reason, it becomes homonymous and is adapted according to the rules and laws of human will: and not in one, but in

^A many and diverse subjects, each one of which is called by the same name, to say the most. For example, regarding the notion of will, one might find the name sometimes used of the uncreated nature of the Son, and sometimes of created things by the saints, as the great Athanasius, writing against the Arians, says that the impious do not wish the Son to be the living reason and will, but regard will and prudence and counsel in God as a habit that befalls and departs. And likewise, John of Damascus says that the Son is the will and wisdom and power of the Father; for one must not speak of quality in God, lest we make Him composite of essence and quality. And furthermore, Gregory, of the Nyssaeans, says that wisdom and will are in truth nothing else than the wisdom planned before the universe, in which all things were made and adorned; for Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God. And this, then, is regarding the fact that essence, power, will, and wisdom are the same according ^B to their meaning. In other places, however, the divine Maximus is found saying that volition and will are not the same as the essence of God. “For volition both begins and ceases; but the essence neither begins nor ceases. And that which begins and ceases cannot be the same as that which neither begins nor ceases. For if the will were the same as the essence of God, it would be necessary that, the essence being one, the will also be one. But the Scripture says, ‘All things, whatsoever He willed, He did.’ He willed many things, therefore, and not one.” And likewise the divine Cyril, “Will,” he says, “of one of those named—I mean the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit—is a creative will; whatsoever it might be said to come into being, it is indeed His operation, but it passes ^C through the whole Godhead, and is the effect of the essence that is above creation.” Do you see how the scientific knowledge of names and words, through which all rational accounts and affirmative doctrines come into existence, requires great understanding and investigation? For many things are homonymous. And for this reason, all the assemblies of the heretics, shrouded in these things, shoot at piety at different times from ambush, as if from a thicket; an audacity which you yourself have used, both saying and writing, completely against the divine dogmas, especially all those, and you neither show shame before the flame of the sun that feeds all things, a witness to your wickedness, ^D nor before the creator of the sun, nor any human being.

XIII. And so that I may also teach you how the term of “operation” is even more truly one of these homonymous terms, and is used both in others and also in that divine and blessed essence and nature, when it is said indeterminately, first hear the divine Maximus: “His super-goodness, being Mind and complete operation turned into itself, is operation, not being previously stupidity in potentiality, and then becoming mind in operation. Whence it is also Mind alone, pure, not having an acquired understanding, but it understands everything by itself. For if His essence is one thing, and the things which He understands are different from Him, his 294 mind will be devoid of sense.

If, however, He understands by Himself and from Himself, He is Himself what He understands. Consequently, being mind in truth, He understands existing things as being. Do you see how this divine teacher demonstrates that energy, mind, understanding, and thinking—or rather, cognition and prudence—are the same thing as His essence? Hear then also another statement of his which holds the same meaning: “None of the things that exist is, in its entirety, an essence or cognition that is simple in and of itself, so that it might even be an indivisible monad. But as for God, whether we call Him essence, He does not have the power of being understood added to Him by nature, lest He be composite; or whether we call Him cognition, He does not have an underlying essence by nature that is receptive of cognition. Rather, God is Himself cognition by essence, and is entirely cognition and nothing else; and He is Himself essence by cognition, and is entirely essence and nothing else; and He is entirely above essence and entirely above cognition, because He is a monad, indivisible, simple, and without parts.” And elsewhere he says: “For the Godhead is a monad, not ^B a dyad or a triad, but not a multitude, as it is without beginning, incorporeal, and immovable.” And again: “For that by nature is most solitary, perfect, incomposite, and indissoluble, and it is equally distant from the monad of substance, the dyad of matter, and the multiplicity of essences.” Do you see how this divine teacher altogether forbids here that the term "Triad" be thought of as a number of many things? For, he says, the Triad is a monad, not a multitude, and furthermore it is of a most solitary and unified nature, not a multiplicative one; and in addition to these, it is simple and not divisible. For the one is perfect, the other imperfect. For that which is the cause of all things is absolutely one; and that which is the cause of many things and composite things is entirely simple and incomposite. For if it is not one, it is nothing, from whatever side one might look at it. And if it is not simple, it is not even beyond ^C many things and composite things. But if it is simple, it is also absolutely both individual and indivisible. For composite things can be divided and discerned into those things from which that composite and joined thing has been fashioned and combined. For as many as are discerned, that is how many are in the combination from which these things are discerned, and as many as those many are, so is this one from which they are distant. But of the individual and indivisible, no part can be grasped, nor can there be anything prior to others, nor posterior to others, nor a beginning or an end; for an end is one thing, and that of which it is an end is another; and again, a beginning is one thing, and that of which it is a beginning is another. But this is always both composite and a whole in its state, all of which cannot exist in that simple, immovable, and indivisible essence. But as for the fact that we try to refer our unknown passions, derived from things more familiar to us, to that unknown—if I may put it that way—cognition of that higher knowledge, we ought not to marvel in the least. For this liberty was generally permitted even to the divine Fathers. ^D

XIV. Since I also have many other things at hand to bring forward that are manifest and that prove, in a way that cannot be refuted, that the divine energy and the whole energy is the same as the essence, and is self-energy, I pass over them on account of their number, thinking it sufficient—

^A for this extempore colloquy. It may be that more will be said hereafter, as our discourse on such energy proceeds.

Now, however, it must be shown how, having adopted that definition, the divine Fathers call both the Son and the Holy Spirit "energy" and "self-energy," in each case appropriately. Regarding the Son, the divine Athanasius speaks thus: "It is not in doubt that He is the Father’s living will, and essence-related energy, and true Word." Regarding the Spirit, the same Father speaks thus: "Since the Son, the living Word, is one, there must be one perfect and full sanctifying and illuminating life, being His energy and gift, which is said to proceed from the Father." Cyril likewise, also himself, says: "And the Son is the living and essential energy and power and wisdom of the Father. The Holy Spirit is also the energy of the Son."

Energy is also said to be the natural power inherent in each of existing things, such as the power of heating in fire, ^B and of cooling in snow, and of sensing in an animal, and of acting in that which acts. The result of acting power is also called energy, and work, and production, as the earth and the heaven and the things in them are works and energies of God. For the divine John of Damascus says that "energy" is also called "production," and conversely "production" is called "energy," just as "creature" is also called "creation"; according to which meaning we also call a house the energy of the builder, and a merchant ship the energy of the shipwright.

Energy is also said to be the movement toward the things being produced, being a certain relation seen between the producer and the things being produced, just as that of the builder toward the building, and of the shipwright toward the ship. Or, being an accident in itself, it ceases with the termination of the extremes and is no longer anything. Regarding which the divine Theologian Gregory also said that it will be acted upon, ^C and will not act, and simultaneously with its being acted upon, it ceases, just as the vision that is between the seen and the seer, and the taste that is between the tasted and the taster.

The divine Gregory of Nyssenus also says that it is impossible for an effective energy of a thing to consist in itself, unless something receives the movement of the energy. For these must have a necessary relation to one another: the active and the passive power. From which, if one were to be separated in reason, the remaining part would not stand of itself; for if the thing experiencing were not there, the acting thing would not exist either.

Energy is also said to be, according to the divine Cyril, the truth opposed to fantasy, as the divine Word dwelt in the most holy Theotokos not in appearance, but in energy, that is, in truth. Energy is also said, according to the divine John of Damascus, to be the first thought formed within us, and furthermore the manifestation ^D of the things thought through the tongue. It is also customary, he says, even for divine Scripture to call God’s indulgence an "energy." It is also called an energy of error, such as that of demons, as even the divine Chrysostom, in those orations he wrote concerning the Incomprehensible, exhorts us to pray for those who are being acted upon—that is, the demented and the frenzied.

^A And Paul also, "Because," he says, "they did not receive the truth, He will send them the efficient operation of error, that they might believe." But the saints also call the entire economy of the living creature an operation, or rather, the vital powers, both the intellectual and the sensory.

XV. Since, therefore, there are so many meanings proposed to you which the noun that is homonymous with "efficient operation" signifies, how is it that you pass over the knowledge of them all and take refuge in things that are not found in the Scriptures, and falsely accuse the Scriptures of saying such things? For where does John Damascene say that the uncreated efficient operation differs in any way from the uncreated nature, just as you shamelessly accuse him by perverting these things? For we have heard him characterizing it, but we nowhere find that divine man saying it differs. ^B But if you yourself take "characterizing" to stand for "differing," then it is time for you, when you hear the Scripture saying that the Son is the "character" [i.e., explication/image] of the Father, to preach that the Son is unlike the Father, and lacking in substance, and very different in nature. But as it seems, what is by nature evil—so to speak—and what has once become critically infected in the mind, and has been dangerously severed from divine dogmas on account of these things, could never in time cast off such a habit, any more than at times it can cast off a habit of beauty from poetry; it is very quickly shaken off once detected by the reality of the facts, when nature returns and most easily recovers its genuine state. And you indeed, by pretending to bring forth written testimonies—insanely, it must be said—of your own accord voluntarily expose your own folly, which, since you also pervert it into a vague and impious opinion, you now publicly expose the wickedness proper to you. For the secret sin of depravity no longer hopes that what pertains to the mysteries of the soul will sleep undetected. ^C For it has flowed out and been divulged into the rays of the sun, and at the same time into the mockery and derision of a frequent crowded comic theater; and the glory you strove to acquire you have lost, having changed it into infamy; but you do not perceive that you have already made the revelation of your own shame, which you were hiding, as if in the Bacchic mysteries.

XVI. Palamas, however, answering nothing to these things, entered upon another path, as was his custom. "Does not," he says, "the great Basil say that we know God from the efficient operations of God? For his efficient operations," he says, "descend to us, but his essence remains inaccessible. These efficient operations, therefore, God has, being something other, and they being other and uncreated; ^D for these are his providences, his processions, the infinite, the immovable, the simple, the beginningless, the endless, the wisdom, the power, and such like—all of which are indeed other than the essence, but are uncreated. For it is one thing that has, and another that is had, and truly it is different."

XVII. To this Gregoras responding, "This is your own proper mark, my friend," he says, "to answer nothing that pertains to the matter, but instead of some things to bring forward others, omitting those that are more necessary and...

and obscure and uncultivated and lacking in testimony. However, I shall depart after having said a few things regarding what you have now said. If that which has is one thing, and that which is had is another and different, and if the one that has is essence, but that which is had is not essence according to you, then that which is had is without essence. And if essence is God, then that which is without essence is not God—namely, the efficient force. And consequently, this efficient force, which is without essence and different, exists from eternity with the divine and uncreated essence. And at the same time, a dyad becomes your principle of all things—a most absurd thing, differing from itself and eternally fighting against itself. But the divine Maximus says: ^B "Nothing can, by thinking, be given or attributed to God that is different from his essence from all eternity, neither age, nor time, nor anything of those things that are involved in these; for that which is something properly and that which is not properly are never accommodated to one another." And again, a dyad can in no way be infinite; for the monads in it, existing together by juxtaposition, define one another; but if this is so, it is not without a principle: for the monad is the principle of every dyad. But if it is not without a principle, neither is it unmoved. For it is moved by the number [formed] from monads according to association; but that which is moved is not a principle, but is moved from a principle—namely, the Mover. But the monad alone is properly unmoved. Therefore, the divinities you propose are limited and under a principle, O man; and if this is so, they are enslaved to the dimensions of place and time. Therefore, you have unwittingly been worshipping creatures. Furthermore, if according to you essence is one thing and God, who has the essence, is another, and he is different from his own essence, then God is without essence, and the essence of God is without divinity. For Gregory of Nyssa also says: "If the good is, the evil is not; but if the evil is, the good is not, according to the principle of immediate opposites." So that, in defending polytheism, you have been caught ^C being diseased with atheism—the opposite evils; and the fortifications of your citadels, in which you trusted, have fallen in a short space. Furthermore, since you say that that which has is one thing, and that which is had is different, you would perhaps say that God is necessarily something else, and his substance is something else. For it is said that God both has essence and [has] substance. Therefore, according to your opinion, God will be non-substantial, and the substance of God will be destitute of divinity. And the same must be said and asked regarding the efficient force, whether the efficient force has another efficient force. For if it has [one], then they are two; and if they are two, they are necessarily different; for you said that that which has must be something other than that which is had, and thus there arises a certain monstrous efficient force of an efficient force. But if this is not the case, [the efficient force] cannot have an efficient force, and it will follow that an efficient force of such a kind is ineffectual. But that which is ineffectual is also non-substantial, according to the position and premise ^D that you yourself have clownishly put forward. For you said that that which does not have an efficient force neither is, nor is it anything; nor does it have any position at all; and your endeavor has perished for you in a short time, and the stalk of your wretched labor [has perished], as you compel us to believe either in an non-existent [God] or in a composite divinity. For the divine Cyril also opposes you, asserting that it is absurd to say that God has such knowledge under himself; for if, [like] us,

he is one thing and the knowledge in him is another, he will be composite and not simple. Furthermore, since the will of God, according to you, is external to and different from the essence, there will therefore be three wills in Christ: one is the Son himself, being the will of the Father according to the divine Fathers; a second is that which the Son has, which is different from himself according to you; and a third is the will of the human nature—which is even more absurd than the impiety of those who attribute only one will and nature to Christ ^B. Since the great Athanasius also openly calls those impious who deny that the Son himself is the will, you are truly impious on this account as well, since you follow their side. Concerning the beginning and ending will, it has been discussed briefly by us above, and there is no need to go through it now, as the arguments are clearly manifest.

Further, if divinity and power and wisdom and holiness and goodness are different from God and from one another, and each is always different from the other, it must be sought how each can be of God if it is different from him; and how they can agree with one another in one and in each other, while being different from one another; and whether the one of these that is first—proceeding thus in a dual number—would be God, who is according to you both uncreated and visible ^C; and where this polytheism will stop, progressing perpetually by such pairing along with what is imperfect. For if they differ from one another, they are utterly deprived of one another insofar as they differ, and power becomes unwise, and wisdom becomes powerless, and God becomes unwise and powerless, and each is always in a similar way deprived of all things and needing one another. For the Theologian Gregory also says: “What profit is there in an imperfect divinity, or rather, what divinity is it which is not perfect? And how is it perfect if it lacks something for perfection? But it is surely lacking when it does not possess the holy. And how could it possess it, if it does not have it? For if the holiness is something other than this, and if it is conceived as such, let someone say what it is.” And the great Basil says: “If sanctification, he says, is for him a nature as it is for the Father and the Son, how is it of a third and alien nature?” ^D And again: “Good,” he says, “is the Spirit, just as the Father is good, and he who is begotten from the Good is good, having goodness as his essence.” You see how holiness and goodness and operation and such things are not different from the simple and divine essence, but are the same. See, therefore, O new theologian, which of the impieties you prefer; for such things, revealed by one another and clashing against one another, bring you to the chasm of the doctrine of no God and of many gods. For in most things unlike

^A you prefer; if you posit that the uncreated is possessed from without, then it is entirely different; for if there is no difference between uncreated and uncreated, it cannot, as you think, possess an uncreated. Thus this uncreated becomes for you either non-existent, or one or the other of two things: it must be called either created-uncreated or uncreated-uncreated, and warring against itself. For it is familiar to those who possess even the slightest degree of logical knowledge that the term "to have" is equivocal and by no means simple; and this seems to be the case not only according to the knowledge of secular wise men, but also, in my opinion, to all the wise teachers of the divine dogmas of the Church, ^B of whom one shall suffice for our instruction today: the divine John of Damascus. He, in dividing for us the meaning of "to have," is found in no way attributing this term to that divine and most simple nature. For how can there be any mediation of alienation, which separates the possessor from the thing possessed, while also, in another way, bringing in a spurious and acquired mode? For he says that it is necessary for that which is possessed to be with the possessing substance, either as essence, just like a garment and a hand and a field and such things, or as an accident; and this is again subdivided in two ways, into the power of divisible and of those things which are in no way separated. For one thing is said to be possessed contingently and not, according to which meaning we say that one who is able to walk can walk, and conversely, can not walk; but another thing is said to be possessed by habit and disposition, just as, for instance, sweetness is naturally inherent in honey, whiteness in snow, and knowledge in the human soul. ^C Whoever wishes to attribute to the divine and simple nature any one of these significations, let him know that he is clearly erring; for the great Basil says that names exist for men for the sake of the knowledge and differentiation of substances and of the things conceived around these substances. But to him who is quite given to adding some burdensome and dismissible accident to the divine and most simple nature, it is said that an accident is something that either is naturally inherent or admits of being and not being. But if it is naturally inherent, it is necessary for God to be both essence and accident; for by necessity such things occur as have happened. But if it is contingent, then both the begotten and the unbegotten will be one and the same, and likewise all things that are opposed—knowledge and lack of knowledge, power and lack of power—and, indeed, things akin to the impious words of the foolish. That "to have" is used figuratively in regard to God, the divine Chrysostom now shows, saying: ^D "When you hear that 'as the Father has life in himself, so he gave to the Son to have life and to have authority,' do not suppose a composition! Nor, when you hear that 'in him was life,' think that he was composite; for he proceeds to say, 'I am the life.'" So your brutish wisdom is revealed even here, saying similarly, as in the case of a human and a stone, that the essence of God is grasped along with all its natural properties by those who wish to define it. For that which is composed of such things would not be simple, nor...

^A but composite, and it is divided by those things of which it is composed. But he who attempts to add to that indivisible and divine nature, to which it is natural neither to increase nor to decrease, fails to perceive—as far as he himself is concerned—that by this addition he is diminishing the power of that nature, while being least of all able to increase it, a nature which has never needed nor will ever need any addition or subtraction, since there is nothing of which it could ever be in need, filling all things and allowing nothing to exist outside itself.

^B VIII. But if, in a quality that is devoid of bulk and magnitude, one cannot properly speak of a part, nor add or subtract any magnitude (for we do not speak of a "large" or "small" whiteness), it is certainly far, or rather entirely, removed from us to think and say such things about the divine essence, which has produced, and always produces, magnitude and smallness; yet it is not itself by nature in any way any of the things which it has produced and always produces. Nor does it proceed into bulk, nor will it ever do so. For that which becomes greater in bulk becomes lesser in power, and that which is greatest in the magnitude of its power is left without any bulk, so that it may always remain equally greatest. For even if we should wish to speak of the whiteness in snow, by way of example, we would not speak of the whiteness in a part of the snow as a part of the whiteness in the greatest amount of snow, but as the whiteness of a part of the snow, and by no means a part of the whiteness—for whiteness is of itself devoid of bulk and quantity and magnitude, as has been demonstrated. But if you do not even allow this non-substantial ^C energy to be an accident, where are we to place it? Do you set the standard. For since the voice of that which is divided into essence and accident implies that, if it is neither essence nor accident, it cannot be said to be anything that exists; it remains, therefore, that it must necessarily be said to be non-existent. These are the delusions of your new dogmas, excellent Palamas, that you should believe in that which is not and worship mere names, such as those which we know the Platonists and Academics use regarding genera and forms, and such as whoever came later and followed them in different ways—the Bogomils, of course, and the Manichaeans, the Messalians, and the Eunomians, whom the great Basil also says are driven to great madness, insofar as they claim that God is perceived in subjects, as if God were some common genus, ^D observable only by reason, having no existence in any substance. But hear now what the same great Basil says again regarding the uncreated energy of God: in the simple and incorporeal nature, the energy receives the same definition as the essence.

^A For if the definition and the formula (for definition and formula are the same thing) are a self-existent entity, not needing another for existence, the formula of the energy must also be entirely the same, even if they differ in names, that is to say, a self-existent entity not needing another for existence. For thus the formula of identity is preserved, as the confessor of the truth, Theodorus the Graptus, has most wisely testified, when he says: "In this way, I think, it may be piously understood: the divine energy is eternal, or rather it is energy itself, because the energy is not distinct from the essence, but receives the same formula on account of the property of the simple and incorporeal nature." And again: "Some of the ancients posited that essence is one thing and energy another, as in those things viewed bodily, and so also in the case of the divine formula. Which thing is forbidden to the pious. For in the case of simple and incorporeal things, they know that they differ in nothing; for these are not to be distinguished from one another, so that what is above all simplicity may not be thought of as composite. Nor would the divine essence ever be without energy, nor the energy without essence." You hear the holy teachers of the Church, considering the energy in God to be one and the same with the essence to such an extent that they call it "self-energy" on account of the extreme identity, so that not even by way of thought can any difference whatsoever creep in there. You hear, furthermore, even that which we have ^B indicated to you above: for you were saying that the divine essence is rather "without energy" when both are said to be one and the same, but then "with energy" when they are divided—a thing most full of monstrosity and ignorance, and not only startling to every ear by its absurdity, because you also shamelessly slander these wise teachers of the Church; for they say these things are not to be distinguished from one another, so that neither may that which is above all simplicity be thought of as composite, and so that ^C neither would the essence ever be without energy, nor the energy without essence.

XX. To these things Palamas, replying, said that this dogma is common to both the external and our own philosophers, and I do not gainsay it; but those that admit the same formula are two and not one. And if they are two, how are they removed from any difference whatsoever from one another? The identity of the formula, then, consists in this, that both, both essence and energy, are uncreated: but the difference is that one is essence, ^D and the other is "in-essential," that is to say, the energy.

XXI. Gregoras, moreover, says: "That the 'in-essential' is not, and that which is not is not God, is understood by all except you. But there is nothing now to prevent our concluding that in the composite nature the energy receives a definition opposite to the essence, and that of necessity one of two things must be: either our essence is uncreated and the energy created, or the essence being created, the energy is uncreated—this also is understood by everyone quite well; for just as for those to whom the being is the same, the formula is also the same, so

^A to those for whom the being is different, the formula is also different. For regarding the substantial existence, you have heard these saints saying the identity of the formula, or definition, and regarding one thing or another, absolutely nothing. For if each word obtained its difference from the pronunciation and etymology of each, yet in the simple and uncompounded nature, both have the same and one and unchangeable signification. Furthermore, if you say that the energy is something else even in God, as it is in us who are composite, and especially [that it is] the uncreated divinity, and each of these is what the other is not, and always one receives difference and conflict from the other in words and in things (for it would be absolutely necessary that things so foreign in nature and signification not be one to the other), then, if the energy is uncreated and without being, the essence would be created ^B and without energy, as you heard above the divine men define, according to the rules of philosophy, contraries by contraries. But if, moreover, the name of "energy" were generally, according to your opinion, predicated equally of all names—I mean power, wisdom, life, light, anger, long-suffering, wrath, freedom from wrath, and such things, which the divine Scripture uses appropriately for God, with both affirmative and negative, and opposite terms—it will eventually run forward and leap equally upon all of these, and in the same way ^C the absurdity will trample upon all the names, and the name of "energy" will struggle against itself, namely, this which according to you is uniquely called the uncreated divinity. For according to that by which each thing is distinguished from all other things, according to that it is lessened and alienated from all others. And it is confessed that all that is said and named appropriately to God by us is one in essence and nature, and is, and was, and will be: God, mighty, just, uncreated, truth, wisdom, power, life, light, energy, and the like.

XXII. But since Palamas saw himself repeatedly caught by his own words and writings, "Not in words," he says, "nor ^D altogether in writings, but in our affairs is piety perceived, according to the theologians." Gregoras then paused a little: "Oh," he says, "the folly!" And looking down upon him: "So it escaped us," he says, "that you are of dull ears, and deaf, and altogether ignorant of the festival and celebration of the divine books, and by inserting and transposing from elsewhere to elsewhere, you pervert through ignorance every sense and every counsel of Scripture. For the great one in theology says this, Gregorius, confirming those things which were said by the divine Dionysius, I think, and himself yielding and in a way exhorting that we should use a certain sparing manner, when the occasion calls for those who are diverse in opinions and thoughts, that we should to a small degree indulge the diverse manners of those approaching, sometimes as a necessity, so that the consensus of faith, even if not in words, at least in thoughts, might be kept constant in the most serious matters. In which matter he says it is permitted to explain this or that word even with other words and meanings equivalent [in regard to God...]

^A to the appropriate manner. For it is not fitting, says Athanasius, to receive what is written and done by way of economy in a perverse sense, and to draw it to one’s own will; for even a physician often provides, for the treatment of wounds, things which to some seem not suitable, according to his own knowledge, looking to nothing else but to health. And this is also the way of a prudent teacher, to descend to the character of those being taught and to speak accordingly. Names, then, and verbs, and whatever utterances are, by sounds and letters, signs of the underlying realities, are sometimes used according to homonymy ^B in different things without distinction, and sometimes according to a synonymy observed in greater and lesser things, and whatever else admits a similar reasoning; sometimes they have been designated by almost the same meaning in so far as they have a relative cause; for which reason, indeed, it is customary for the like to be called like, and friend to be called friend to friend, and whatever things are similar, so that while the propriety of these things becomes manifold in the things that are divided, in God it is simple and undivided according to the manifestation of the one subject: I mean that indivisible and formless and invisible essence, of whatever kind it is; which if someone were to call a meadow pasturing the soul and a chamber of truth, he would not, I think, err. For since it is one, it continues constantly in the one, or rather to speak more accurately, in itself; and our thoughts, which are by nature divisible ^C and take a different circumference about each of these realities, it gathers into one certain and indiscrete thought, so that the necessarily manifold and multiform division of names, such as the diverse derivation and deduction of different things brings forth—I mean of power and life and efficacy and light and wisdom and the like—the simple and itself now and uniform course in that field of truth runs. For a circumscribed limit, which is a certain name of each essence, is something that both takes one property and in any way composes what has been indefinitely poured forth, simply according to human understanding. It attempts, indeed, even in that most simple divine essence, to declare its natural motion and the nature of its inherent power—I ^D mean that which discerns and divides the one into diverse properties—but before it acts, it is affected. For when it desired to divide that indivisible and divine essence just like other things, it fled from being composed by it, and drew the division that hinders and occupies names into an intelligible concord; and since that divine and most simple nature knows not how to serve the circumscriptions of names, and circumscription is the cognition that gathers the subject, that which is not circumscribed by reason of its essence cannot be known. One, therefore, and unknown is that divine nature, and above every definition and intelligence, and rejecting every Palamite subtlety, which can be known by us in God through His efficiencies and works, which appear and have been made, in us in

so far as we denote these to one another by names derived from different etymologies, according to our necessary and proportional requirements; not disorderly, and as the will of each suggests, seeing that, but following the dogmas of the divine Fathers down to the very least ^A stroke. For first, the Savior in the Gospels exhorts us not to scorn even a single stroke of His divine commands and precepts found in Scripture. I do not know which of the two is the case: either you have not heard these things—and you, who reside among bishops, O foolishness!—or, having heard them, you did not understand. Next, regarding the opinions of the theologians of the Church which you calumniate, that great man in theology, Gregory, says: “But we, if we are those who draw the precision of the Spirit even to the trivial stroke or letter, shall never accept ^B (for it is not holy) that even the smallest actions were studied in vain by those who wrote them down, or that they were preserved in memory down to the present time, but rather that we might have reminders and instructions in case a season of deliberation on similar matters should occur, so that we might avoid some and choose others, following the preceding examples as if they were rules and prototypes.” ^C And the great Basil says: “It is necessary for one who keeps the judgment of Christ before his eyes, and who knows how great the danger is in subtracting anything from or adding anything to those things handed down by the Spirit, not to strive to devise new things of his own accord, but to rest in those things announced by the saints.” And he who is golden-mouthed also says similarly: “In the divine Scriptures, to pass over even one iota or one stroke is not without penalty; wherefore it is necessary to investigate everything.” You have heard, I suppose, a short while ago here also what Gregory of Nyssa says elsewhere: “Because our nature is encompassed by ^D a fleshly covering, the motions of our mind cannot be made manifest, and so we necessarily, as if placing signs upon things by specific compositions of names, communicate through them the motions of the mind to one another; and for this reason we have given the name heaven to one of the things that exist, and to another earth, and to others other things. And for the manner of relation, or action, or passion, all these we denote by specific spoken words, so that the movement of the mind within us may not remain unshared and unknown. Moreover, since all human life is ordered and administered by nature and by the rules of words and letters—and nature indeed is without order and rule, while law is endowed with rhythm, order, and rule—if, having followed you, we were to allow the power of words and letters to be of no consequence, we would straightway also be shown to have rendered this ornate and admirable work of God void and vain, and we would be making our life brutish. For then everything would flow into perversion and irrational change and ungoverned impulse, and the whole practice of life would depart into much dementia and insanity; and he who suggests such things and he who says he is persuaded of this would be so thunderstruck and bereft of mind, and by no means sound: it would surely have been much wiser for you if your statement had been [made] by your own words and letters...

^A in which alone piety today confines itself. For you should have said that one must not put faith in Palamite words and letters at all as being piety; but you, indefinitely, put forth that saying, so that, having removed those who follow you from the clear words and letters of piety, you might most easily instill in them the evil of your impiety.

^B XXIII. I would gladly hear from you also what those things are which you claim exist, in which piety is contained, having defined it and put it forth by opposition, then having passed over it in silence without having explained anything; this, which is your customary veil of ignorance, tell me, I pray you, by your inessential and insubstantial divinities. For if you were thinking of the divine and tri-hypostatic nature, why have you not explained this? But this is worthy of a wish, [yet] not, I suppose, of hope; and it is far from that; for it does not belong to you to think and speak correctly concerning God. But you call these things themselves your inessential and infinite divinities, which can neither exist now nor ever will exist hereafter; for that which is inessential and uncreated must of necessity be placed in the number of those things which in no way at all exist in any manner: such are the deceits of your dogmas, and this is your concern, O wicked head, to persuade us to believe in that which is nothing. ^C For if divine words and letters are taken away, according to your exhortation, which declare the truth of things, what agreement of faith will there ever be, and from where will it ever arise? From where and what kind of knowledge of the God who created us could ever come to those who wish to practice piety? But although I am able to say much more about these things, since the time does not permit it, I must pass on to other things. But how do you think of that, O new theologian, when you say that we know God from the operations? For have you not understood while hearing that we know through the deeds which are visible to our bodily eyes the God who is not visible to us? For that the products are an operation has been demonstrated to us a little earlier. And again, you hear from the greatness and the beauty of creation, and you hear elsewhere in Scripture saying that the Creator is to be marveled at, and that this is what it means for "the heavens to declare the glory of God." ^D And likewise John Damascene says, "God, in His nature invisible, becomes visible through His operations, being known from the constitution and governance of the world." Nevertheless, advancing further, you will find Basil the Great himself also interpreting his own words in the same epistle: "For from the sea," he says, "and the winds that obeyed Him, the apostles recognized His divinity. Therefore, from the operations comes knowledge, and from knowledge, adoration." Do you see how he says, from the miracles that were wrought? For these, he says, are the operations that descend, or rather, are shown to us. But as it seems, you give us two things to consider. For either you took up the saying from fleeting hearsay, or upon reading the letter, you did not understand; and you suffer something similar

^A as if some man, lifting his eyes toward the sun at midday, then, by reason of weakness, turning away toward the ground, were to imagine for himself spectral images of colors, manifold and diverse, all of which, though they be false and non-existent, seem true to eyes that are so languid. Or rather, just as those who are intoxicated do not see things as they are by nature, but instead of one thing see another, as their vision is billowed by the moisture around the brain, and seems to swim, so to speak, in such a way that the things appearing are wrongly perceived; so too you yourself, steered by profound ignorance, have not the slightest understanding of how the dogmas of nature stand as determined by the divine Fathers. This is the very thing that happens also to those who fly from the oar to the platform, and from the mattock to theology; it induces them to believe that every name spoken concerning God provides a bodily conception, and it compels them to dare to term anything which has bodily circumscription as Godhead, and to call it "uncreated."

^B XXIV. Upon these words, the great logothete—a wise man, and one who understood what was said, more so than any of those who were present there at that time and were enjoying glory and honor—said to Palamas, who was still striving to proclaim those absurd and most unseasonably uttered paradoxes: "I see you now, my fine fellow, striving toward nothing other than to endeavor, through loquacity, to hunt for the praise of unlearned men, and not to appear to be defeated by your adversaries. Yet the arguments of truth themselves are clear and irrefutable, and they carry their credibility of and by themselves. These are the very ones you hear being brought forward by Gregoras, and they contain, from the outset, the fallacious nature of your own arguments. For you have no sound counter-argument to offer; but when you are required to produce written testimonies that clearly and plainly declare that there are very many uncreated things different from the nature of the substratum, since you cannot find, in any way, testimony from any of the saints, you gather together from yourself those things that are most absurd. For since you always fall from one unheard-of innovation into another, you immediately render yourself guilty of open and plain injustice. For he who attempts to invent dogmas according to his own will, at a time when he who has the power to restrain him is both indulgent and instigating, cannot entirely expel the pious and ancestral ^C faith. But now, that is not our purpose; rather, as we confirm the dogmas of the divine Fathers and teachers, we seek to inquire whence this new doctrine of yours was discovered, by which you have now long been disturbing the Church of God, having the hand of the emperor as your ally. For this most divine emperor was a child when you began to proclaim such things; and, owing to the confusion subsequently arising in the empire, from whatever source and in whatever manner it arose, he had no time to hear and to correct you. You, however, remain unmoved and unwilling to cease from these evils. The proverb, to be sure, says that wine lacks a bridle; but I see that your folly, even more than wine, lacks a bridle that could steer the surging torrent ^D of your dogmas: which is the very worst of evils. For if such deeds were to receive honors as their reward, to what point would these absurdities proceed? To what point would their conspicuous assaults increase and pr

perversity move downward, swept along as it is? Do not speak to me now, nor boast, indulging in the unruly impetus of your tongue and a brute pile of jumbled words, nor forge for me swelling phrases that so openly declare war on the truth and on the purpose of this present assembly. But even if the good, along with piety, were present in your words, this is something that you ought to consider with the greatest care, for if this is missing from them, on the contrary, as the proverb about the Mandragora game says, your exertion will turn out for you to be nothing, and the idle trifles ^A of an ill-timed tongue become for you the pinnacle of evils; and this all the more so, the more the field of absurdity is naturally suited to abound in the many-toned crops of wordiness, and further, in the studies and cares of empty echoes and noises. But the exhortation of the divine books says: "Do not remove," it says, "the landmarks which thy fathers have set, and do not think upon these things; for thou hast no need of secret things."

XXV. Upon these things Palamas kept silent, but one of his disciples rose up, a man very ignorant and rash, ^B and boasting more drunkenly than speaking against the truth, as if the remnants of wine had been poured upon him in the morning. And he said, "I wish to dispute today concerning 'powers': and let someone now come forward and tell me why God is called omnipotent: is it because He has in Himself all the powers, which we call uncreated and distinct from one another and from the very essence of God?" This was heard by one who was present, a disciple of Gregoras, who had journeyed with him from home. As the discussion began, he had been sent to bring the book of dogmatic panoply; and when he had later brought it, he was himself present at the assembly. He, therefore, weighed down by the absurdity of the things he had heard, rose and said: "Indeed, it was incumbent upon you to call God 'all-powerful' (pasodynamon) in this way, and not 'omnipotent' (pantodynamon). For to us, who believe that God can do all things whatsoever He wills, it has seemed right until now that He be called omnipotent (pantodynamon), and not as you say." But Palamas, taking him up, said: "But by the change of the 's' into 't', it becomes 'pantodynamon', ^C just as [the word for] 'sea' (thalassa) changes into 'thalatta'." Great laughter was raised at this, so that not even Gregoras himself could restrain himself, although he took great pains not to be seen laughing, and at the same time struggled to keep silent on account of the pains in his head. But Palamas, trying to extinguish the laughter, held to his previous arguments, and, starting again from there, said: "That what has something is different from what is held, is understood also from the saying of the holy Maximus: 'God indeed knows Himself from His blessed essence, but the things which were made by Him [He knows] from His wisdom, through which and in which He made all things.' Therefore, God is one thing, and His wisdom, through which and in which He made all things, which is in every way distinct ^D from the essence of God and uncreated, is another; for different is God who possesses, and different is His wisdom as a property and an inessential thing." To this, Gregoras, as if inspired by a divine impulse, exclaimed: "Do you not all hear, you who are truly studious of the faith, since he openly attempts to abolish the pious belief..."

of Christ's Church, together with the Gospels and all the writings of the divine Fathers, and declares that the Son and Word of God is distinct from the Father's essence and a subordinate God, just as Eunomius and that Arius, and whoever else has long ago uttered such blasphemies? For to pass over ^A the sayings of our divine teachers in the present instance, do you not all always hear the divine Gospel saying: 'All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made;' and David having prophesied long before: 'In wisdom You have made all things;' and Solomon again: 'God by wisdom founded the earth, He established the heavens by understanding?' What need, then, is there now of words to demonstrate the ancient perversity of his dogma, which he has long ago travailed with and brought forth, and never ceases to write and speak, and to teach in the squares and abroad, due to the great lack of anyone to restrain him, and to pierce the ears of the simpler folk?"

XXVI. Palamas, however, changing the concepts and declensions of names and words, uttered the worst insults. After he had been reproached for being unlearned, he introduced the ^B opposition of conjunctions, namely the 'and' and the 'but.' "For he knows," he says, quoting the saying of the divine Maximus, "that God Himself [is] from His blessed essence: but the things that have been made by Him [are] from His wisdom, through which and in which He made all things." It behooved him, therefore, according to you, to say that the Son also similarly knows Himself from His blessed essence, so that he might show the same nature and the same essence: which, since it was passed over by him in silence, it appears that he agrees with me, and in no way with you.

^C [f. 149 v.] XXVII. A great opposition having thus arisen here between the two parties, Gregoras, having become as it were an arbitrator between them, and making little account of his headaches because of the necessity and need [of the situation], said: "First indeed, it must be considered," he says, "which of the two follows the common concepts of the Church and the divine opinions of the Fathers confirmed from above; according to the great Basil, who says that we must, beginning from the common concepts concerning God, not think that the things which are contrary in their wording [are contradictory]. For example, according to common assumptions, it is to be confessed that the divine nature is good and devoid of wrath and just. If, therefore, ^D Scripture says that God is angry or sorrowful or repentant or treats someone not according to merit, it is necessary to seek the intention of the word, and to reflect on how we might be able to restore it, and not to overturn the weighty assumptions concerning God; and in this way we shall read the Scriptures offencelessly, taking no harm from the more obscure passages, but deriving benefit from the clear ones. It is agreed, indeed, among all the orthodox, that all things have been made through the Son and Word of God. For, he says, 'By the Word of the Lord the heavens were established.' And according to the divine Gregory of Nyssa, truly wisdom and will is nothing else than the preconceived universal wisdom, in which all things were made and adorned.

For Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God. And again, our Lord Jesus Christ is the wisdom of God and the Father according to the divine Maximus, and furthermore ^A he is the prudence, who even holds together the totality of things that exist by the power of wisdom, and embraces the complementary parts of these by the prudence of understanding, being by nature the creator and provider of all, and leading into one the things that are separated through himself. And John of Damascus similarly says that there is no word, wisdom, power, or will to the Father except the Son, who is the sole power of the Father, the pre-originating cause of the making of all things. And one could bring forward countless testimonies to establish this. And this, in the first place, must be considered; and secondly, how the divine Maximus also follows the common dogmas of the Church, unless one should obstinately seek here to misinterpret [them]. For the distinction of the conjunctions here does not distinguish the Father and the Son, but rather, while especially separating God from the creatures, [it] includes and joins the Son to Him in the cognition of the creatures, ^B so that the Father might not appear to separate the Son from Himself in the knowledge of these, through whom and in whom He has made all these things. For indeed, even when the saint says that God knows Himself from His own blessed essence, he does not deprive the Son of such knowledge. For how could he, being consubstantial and having the same knowledge as the Father, as even He Himself testifies about Himself, saying, "As the Father knows me, I also know the Father;" and, "All things that the Father has are mine;" and, "I and the Father are one." For this reason, there in the knowledge of God, because of the natural and essential identity of the Father and the Son, no [further] inquiry was needed; but in the knowledge that pertains to creatures, this divine Maximus assumes also the wisdom, through which and in which He made all these things, the mention of such a thing being necessary here because of the [distinction of the] hypostases, just as there [the mention] of silence [was unnecessary] because the indistinguishable and identical nature of the Son and the Father is known to all. ^C But the divine Maximus shows this yet more clearly as he proceeds, and as he makes mention of technical [or artificial] wisdom there, lest anyone, having strayed anywhere through ignorance, should slip from there into impious reasonings and, in place of the true wisdom, imagine the technical wisdom which is in the creatures—just as this Palamas here has blasphemed before many times, and now again is not ashamed to dare the undarable among us. For he says further on that the rational and intellectual nature knows creatures by the appropriation of the technical wisdom contemplated in them, and by the knowledge of the natural principles which are in them; which technical wisdom he then, passing by, again calls bare and unsubstantial, existing in the mind, thus stating literally, that things made by God know God by the appropriation, as has been said, of the technical wisdom contemplated in the things made, which is bare and unsubstantial, existing in the mind. ^D And elsewhere again he says: "We do not know God from His essence, but from the magnificence and providence of things. For from these, as from mirrors, we understand [His] infinite goodness and wisdom and power." These

^A things Gregoras, continuing, said, having turned toward Palamas: "Do you see, into which of the two blasphemies set forth here you necessarily fall? For you either call the Son of God, who is truly Wisdom, through whom and in whom He has made all things, an inessential divinity, or you call the artificial wisdom that exists in created things an uncreated and at the same time an inessential divinity; which is the mere, unsubstantial [wisdom] consisting within the mind, as you have heard the divine Maximus say. Such are the ugly [consequences] of your absurd novelties, and so heinous are the conclusions of your impiety. And then you dare to live, and with impudent eyes look upon the heavenly torch, the august eye of the sun, and converse with men who possess reason, and share with them the same air, having become a monument of such wickedness for the Church of Christ? But you, if you wish, coin new terms further, just as for a swarm of uncreated divinities, so also a new art. For it is permitted to you, employing ^B everywhere the usual impudence of your ignorance, and easily taking for yourself whatever you wish, and in no way sparing [your] unexpected and fatal fortunes, nor allowing your insane and audacious opinion to rest upon certain conditions. For all the knowledge of the ancients and the learned harmony and rhythm of wisdom have forgotten your inessential efficiency, through which you effortlessly forge uncreated divinities, sprung from themselves, just as the Attic fables shadow forth the daily race of those sown giants, depicting the rush and outcome of more recent rumors. But since to the novelty of words, new laws are also needed, come, write, if you wish, also some new edict, so that no one may henceforth use words according to knowledge; become in these times even you yourself a Julian the Emperor, infamous for wickedness, and showing audacities more cruel rather than those from his nature, or rather, having already become such, helped by a miserable occasion, choosing an unhappy and detestable life, from which many chasms have burst forth against piety, and many ^C nefarious rivers of evils have poured out. But not to the end, I think, will you laugh; but this Emperor will quickly restore the paternal glory of the Church to God, who gave him his paternal kingdom.

XXVIII. Palamas, burdened by these things and deeply affected, retorted against the insults and even made light of the dignity of his position, just as if he were not himself. ^D Whence also he frequently turned his whole self hither and thither on the ground on which he was sitting at that time, and was, so to speak, difficult [to manage] and importunate in a certain way, and no better disposed than the frantic. For one could see him as if being oblivious of himself, and of the time, and of the spectators, drawing hither and thither with his hands the hems of his garments, and pulling them up and down, and stripping them even to his shins and thighs, and almost exposing what is not decent to show, in a mimic way, showing them off in passing, so to speak, and neither his mind

^A seemed to be fixed on the things being seen, as it appears, nor was he at all ashamed. And at the same time, the man dared to do two absurd things, while neither being afraid nor ashamed; for while with his mouth he was blaspheming God, he feared not at all, and while using the unseemly posture of that madman before so many eyes, he was not in the least ashamed. And that which that Odysseus of old at Troy, mocking Homer’s garrulous Thersites, threatened to do—namely, to strip off his pleasing garments that cover his shameful members—that he did not perceive he was himself clearly doing. These things made Gregoras, even though he did not at all wish to laugh, break into laughter, and casting a mocking eye upon him, he said: “I, pitying your ignorance and impudence, my friend, wish even now to set forth for you, according to the principles of science, all the meanings that the term 'wisdom' divides, that you may learn from this into what depth of wickedness one is driven if one prattles and impudently perverts the divine Scriptures. We must therefore here follow the teaching of the divine Fathers. For wisdom is understood in two ways, according to the created and the uncreated. And created wisdom is called that which is infused by God and concurrently fashioned with the creatures, so that it might appear to all, according to the great Athanasius, as [being] wise and at the same time worthy of the Creator: according to which meaning David also says the heavens ^B declare the glory of God with voiceless tongues. And at the same time he exhorts all creation to the celebration of God, whatever soul is endowed or destitute, whatever [beings] are endowed with sense and what are not, and furthermore those who are learnedly instructed from a pre-existing knowledge. In which, possessing knowledge and understanding, the divine Fathers affirm that we become receptive of the wisdom creating all things, each after its own inherent manner. And the known of God is manifest through the creatures. But uncreated wisdom is the Son and Word of God, through whom and in whom all things were made. Yet it is not the case that to Him [it is] Word or Son to whom [it is] wisdom. For the [term] Son and Word has simple meaning and is relative to the Father, but that of wisdom is double. For it is said as wisdom in itself, having a more general conception, when it is clearly identical with the essence, and this would be the same as [being] ^C wise essence according to the more general notion of form or of nature, where the Father and the Son are called wisdom in the same way as they are both essence. But wisdom is also said to be the hypostasis, receiving the name from the more general [category], just as we speak of 'man' specifically and generally, [as] the essence and nature—[that is], as a thing in itself and properly, and in no way referring to another—and there is a time when we transfer this specific and more general name to the personal and particular, namely, to Peter. For wisdom is not a most private thing circumscribed by something, nor is it relative, as the Son to the Father and the Word to that whose Word it is, [that is] the mind; for essential and natural things are more extensive and have a broader ^D conception, [while] those...

which are referred to one another, and are bound together by a mutual relation, are by no means permitted to have an unrestricted significance. As, therefore, the Father is essence, the Son is essence, and the Holy Spirit is essence, so also is the Father wisdom, the Son wisdom, and the Holy Spirit wisdom; and at the same time there is one wisdom just as there is one essence, and not three wisdoms, just as there are not three essences. When, therefore, the Son says, "I am wisdom," and again the Apostle, "Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God," he is understood as generated from the Father, who is power and wisdom, just as light from light and God from God. ^C Where, then, would he not proceed into impiety, who would say that God is a subject for wisdom as if it were an accident, and that wisdom is not rather essence, and who does not say that God is—just as he is his own essence, so also is he his own wisdom—but [who says] that it is in him as in a subject, like this technical wisdom in the human soul? For even the great Athanasius, following the rules and philosophical laws of the truth, strongly forbids this, and labels those who follow the sect of those who say that wisdom in God is as a habit that comes and goes, and not really wisdom itself, as participants in impiety. ^D Since, therefore, wisdom here is twofold—the one creative, primary, and making, the other created; and the one calculating, the other calculated; and the one begetting, the other made—it follows that for the former, God is the begetter and Father, but for the latter, he is the artificer and creator. And it follows because of these things that for the former the essence is eternal, immutable, and motionless (for the essence that primarily moves all things must be entirely motionless both in itself and by accident), whereas the latter is always alterable, changeable, and always moved according to the similar outcomes, in terms of creation, essence, and order, of those things which are among us, sometimes proceeding from a defined monad into an infinite and undefined multitude, and sometimes receding from a defined unity into an infinite and undefined opposition. For ancient philosophers and theologians said that this technical wisdom stands in the place of a certain genus and idea. [E] And, just as the genus cannot be absent from the species and individuals of which it is the genus, nor the ratio, which is essence, from the things of which it is the ratio, so neither can the technical wisdom be separated from the species and individuals of this [genus], no more than the surfaces of bodies, which we know can never exist by themselves without the underlying subjects of which they are the surfaces. Therefore, all wise sciences and arts depend upon this technical wisdom, like different branches of one root; and as God is the author and progenitor of all things, so also is he of this [wisdom] from which those [sciences] depend. Wherefore, in that [divine] case, the mutual conjunction and relation holds a place so as to preserve its own proper strength entirely pure, since both that which is divided and those things into which it is divided are of the same genus; but in this [latter] case, while these things are—as far as only the voice and the articulate, significant sound goes—those things refer their own relation back to their author and maker. So that there is least of all to blame, but it is indeed most of all worthy of wonder.

that divine teacher of piety, Maximus ^A, who philosophized most excellently of all concerning wisdom here, and who clearly distinguished between both: the uncreated wisdom, through which and in which all things were made, and again the wisdom woven and composed by it and through it—as he expressed it—into heaven and earth and all creatures, artistically and wisely, which he calls a mere and unsubstantial conception in itself.

XXIX.

XXX.

Therefore, Palamas, opening a book, read a statement which says that the efficient agent is one thing, the effective faculty another, and the efficiency another, and the effect still another. Then he himself interpreted it extemporaneously: the efficient agent is God, the effective faculty is the nature, the efficiency is his uncreated divinity which is other than the efficient agent that moves it, and the effect is the completion. He stated, moreover, that the efficiency and "to effect" are one and the same; and furthermore he asked, what one ought to think "to effect" is? Is it not the same as creating? "Would we then say that the created creates in God? Away with such folly!" Then, one after another, he added other things, demonstrating that to create is one thing and distinct from essence.

joining together many things of the same nature and order as those former and intermediate insults of his, so that [f. 155 r.] the tower of new Chalane being built might not be inconsistent and discordant with itself, and whatever needed to be purged by Sodomite fire. But Gregoras, passing over most of these, says to him: "If to create and the uncreated are, according to you, a different thing, then it always was, and it follows of necessity that the created things are co-eternal with the Creator; for since the Creator is always, and, according to you, is always creating, then the world also was always together with the Creator. This is absurd and impious. For God is said to provide for things once created, and to preserve them according to the principle by which they were made, but not to create, since the works, all of which He finished on the seventh day, do not need addition. ^B Furthermore, since you also concede that to act (enargein) and to be (einai) are the same, and 'energy' is movement being produced rather than producing (for if it is energy, the great Gregory says in his Theology, it will clearly be produced, and will not produce, and the moment it is produced it will cease), then the creating of another heaven and another earth, and sun and stars, and such like, has ceased; and if it has ceased, it certainly had a beginning. And how can that which has a beginning and an end be the same as that which has neither beginning nor end? Therefore, creating is not co-eternal with God. For just as the nature of fire is the faculty of burning, as God's nature is the faculty of creating, but the 'energy' is the act of burning—which indeed seems to be in operation when that which can be burned is present, but when that is absent, the burning is also absent—so also one might say of the Creator: if that which needs to be created is present, perhaps there is room for creating, but if that is absent, the creating also ceases. Then, this energy in composite creatures must be understood as a movement being produced, as the divine John of Damascus says. ^C Which is also a relationship joining the extremes, and cannot be conceived without the related things; and by extremes I mean both that which produces and that which is produced. And the movement is in time and is governed by the presence of the prior and the posterior, subjecting freedom to the limits of time and place. To attribute this to God is the most absurd of all things. For the intent in God was a deed, the will immediately transitioning to the end proposed. And to introduce there, by any manner of thought, any interval of time or place is the most absurd and impossible of all things. ^D "For the impulse of the divine resolve," as Gregory of Nyssa says, "when He wills, the thing comes to be, and the will is immediately substantiated, becoming a nature, of the omnipotent power, which efficiently and artfully accomplishes whatever it wills, so that the will does not lack substance." For neither place nor reason, according to the divine Cyril, is seen intervening between the creator and the creature. But energy in God has been shown to be the manifestation of His great and wonderful works made to us; yet these are works

are created, and in no way are they gods or uncreated divinities. No movement preceded them, which you now feign to be an energy and call an uncreated divinity, distinct from the divine essence. Your divinity, therefore, is a fiction of your mind, such that even those who invent goat-stags could not conceive of it. ^B

XXXI. Since a great opposition had arisen from both sides, and many words had been wasted on the kind of verbal abuse that wears down the ears, and at the same time a great clamor from those who were ignorantly assisting Palamas had dinned into our ears in such a way that none of the arguments could be heard, Gregoras checked the course of those arguments, lest the appearance of Palamas’s insults seem to prevail. For he said that if the arguments were abandoned and if the ignorance of that man were no longer provoked, then the war and the opposition of his reviling tongue and endless clatter would cease at once. “We can also,” he said, “bring forward in our imitation the divine teachers and luminaries of the Church who inveighed against Eunomius. For when Basil the Great recognized that man’s impudence, he said: ‘It seems to us that, because of the utter clarity of their impiety, we are at a loss for words and have no way to address their insanity, so that they seem to me to gain nothing beyond ignorance. For just as soft and yielding bodies, ^C because they cannot resist, are unable to receive a proper wound, so too is it impossible that those whose ignorance is manifest be struck by a powerful argument. It remains, therefore, that we pass over their odious impiety in silence.’ Again, Gregory of Nyssa, likewise inveighing against Eunomius as he ran the same course as his brother, said: ‘It would be good, instead, to hate such discourses in silence and, with ears stopped, to flee from the miserable hearing of them.’ Upon this, the king arose, and the assembly was dissolved. And if there were many other things spoken in the meantime by Palamas, belonging to silence and worthy of no memory at all, and they have been passed over in silence in this account, let no one find fault; for they were superfluous and harmful and confused and full of various and manifold insults—or rather, they were so much worse that, because they cause nausea, they were not even deemed worthy of the slightest hearing by Gregora. ^D For this reason, I myself judged it necessary to pass them over in silence for two reasons: namely, that we might neither overstep the boundaries of the Fathers, nor that pure ears be offended by Palamite insults.

XXXII. Most excellent of friends, Agathonicus, well said. And a great debt of gratitude for this narrative will remain in the chambers of my heart. But I should gladly like to know what the judgment of the king himself was on these matters, and likewise that of the council of noble men.

XXXIII. But I shall not begrudge you this, most excellent Theotimus, to relate it as well. The king, indeed, judged against the great and various insults of Palamas, that which

was fitting; yet he revealed nothing anywhere. ^A Rather, he kept his tongue completely silent for two reasons: first and foremost, because he did not wish to exhibit Palamas before the public nor to vex him openly, nor, through him, to vex Cantacuzenus, who hung entirely and openly upon Palamas’s favor and alliance; and secondly, because he was of such a nature by disposition. For he had neither a tongue ready for railing nor a hand ready for punishing; ^B but he naturally guarded a disposition that was entirely mild, and as it were, innate and self-tempered toward kindness. Therefore, even on this occasion, he neither wished to rail against Palamas himself in person, nor did he allow anyone else to do so; but he himself, with silent tongue, reserved the judgment of his mind for another time and exhorted others to do the same.

But Palamas, not at all in accordance with what was likely, but diametrically opposed, surmising the king’s intention—or rather, falsely fabricating it—gave himself over to his natural movements of impudence, and to unchecked and ruinous impulses for the following day, just like a bull driven to madness by a gadfly. ^C He went about through all the squares and streets with immoderate chatter, filling them with the empty volume of his words. Whomever he encountered, he flooded their ears, boasting of vain and false things, and whatever else belonged to that absurd phalanx. He did not leave even one of the city’s temples to Minerva, or any other school, without entering them as he made his rounds to sow the familiar and profane dogmas of his sect; and not only in houses, whether great or small, not even excluding brothels or old drunken crones, did he fail to fill every ear with foul tumult, running about from morning until evening with total vehemence of soul and swiftness of feet. In this way did a rumor of his impudence spread through the streets. And those who, because of their rusticity, might have been able to associate with him, were able to approach him through this rumor; but to the prudent, who examine what they hear with reason and rule, his words could in no way be proven, since they were least able to believe that such indecorous insults had escaped the mind of the king.

When such ineptitudes—or rather, perversions and false calumnies which the impudent Palamas spread contrary to the king’s decision—were reported to the king, and at the same time everything he had not feared to fabricate against the noble council, it happened that he was not a little burdened. ^D For Palamas, beyond others and before others, ought to have been grateful to the king for his clemency and foresight, through which it came about that he was not sent into exile because of those great insults. Instead, Palamas brought it about that the king, in his beneficence toward him, fell into suspicion on one of two counts: either that the king and no one else understood the things that had been said by the impious one against piety, or—if he understood them—that he held them in contempt and neglected matters which were, for the most part, or rather, worthy of every care and study. For which reason it came to pass that not only was Palamas judged for his impudent and depraved manners, but there were those who were led to the point that not only the hour, in which he was especially...

^A born, but also those who had brought him forth and nurtured him, were cursed. For they said that it was inevitable that such a malady of impiety had fallen upon him from his paternal root, like some other stain enfolded in his birth and upbringing. For neither would anyone have fallen so deeply into such a depth of evils, nor would he have set his mind in such a way, that he could be called a sprout of the Furies. Wherefore they contended that those were not deserving of remaining free from condemnation, who had been the authors of such a life, and at the same time the cause of the tempest that had arisen through him against the Church, nor that he himself was removed from condemnation by anything, as if he had been compelled against his will by the origins of his birth, and because the forcing powers of his paternal depravity, having been gathered together like tares from that source and cast in from the very beginning, ^B had interceded. But each would partake with the other in detestations and reproaches, and it would happen that both would be subjected to the same judgment: they, because they had brought forth and nurtured a depraved offspring into life, and had not immediately cast it, once it had burst forth from its inept womb, into Mount Cithaeron or Charybdis, or if there were any newer form of death invented in the chasms and waves of land and sea; and he, because he had not followed their depravity against his will, since he was a participant in reason and an education which had not fallen to the lot of his parents, nor had he disposed things any better than one who is sickly in the same way as they are, nor had he wished to nurture evil in mute silence, but had betrayed the lordship of his will with much more miserable and truly impudent counsels. And it happened to him, while he was mixing evil manners and opinions with his evils, that he surpassed his paternal impiety by long intervals, ^C and at the same time suddenly mixed a deadly poison into souls that had been reared in the simplicity of piety. For one would rightly prefer to honor one’s parents up to that point, as long as one sees the fountains of nurture and education, and whatever the followers can receive with desire and ease, advancing toward piety; but when the stream of time is seen to slip into calamity, one should think it right to be alienated even from those most closely related, when the condition of the time forces one to transfer the affection of the soul from a related evil to a good, even if it be alien, and for him who approaches to become a part lacking in it. Of the others, who were of greater or lesser dignity around the king, there was almost no one whose tongue was not armed and sharp for vituperation, then bringing forth, with the king himself as witness and being present, those reproaches recently uttered by him. There were also some who urged others to recall the memory of those things which he had done and suffered already seventeen years before, and that he was proscribed by anathema and subjected to separation from God by the councils of the patriarchs and chief priests. And, to speak briefly, great was the impetus on this day of the trials ^D of that blessed council before the youthful king, which were then opening up against Palamas: when some said one thing and others rivaled others and others.

others, surpassing them with greater insults. There were also some who called him a traitor, both to the king himself and to all who were his kin by birth and glory; and as if this matter pertained to him, he did not refrain—once he had subjected the judgment of the leaders to his wicked deeds and words—from desiring to deliver them all, without exception, to a violent death. For it was not because he did not openly use iron swords himself in the manner of assassins that he seemed to suffer the total gravity of the accusations, but because, simulating friendship, he had treacherously poured out the entire cup of poison for those who loved him trustingly, before those who were to be afflicted by it could perceive the snare. And those men, excelling in birth and glory, thus inveighed against the wicked Palamas, ^B and with these judgments they vented their wrath upon him. The king, however, who himself was privy to these insults spoken against Palamas and had wished to order upon him the punishment of retribution, yet out of innate clemency wished to spare him and delayed the judgment which had been produced on account of his words and deeds. He remained in this opinion, although he saw Palamas bearing it with difficulty and vexation; neither did he prohibit the insulters from their aggression, and at the same time he revealed the joy of his mind secretly with an obscure smile; and for a long time he endured it, gladly hearing the insults spoken against Palamas. And this was a judgment, or a pre-announcement and adumbration of a judgment—the condemnation of Palamas, yet to be issued—set forth by the king and those illustrious men regarding the conversation recently held with Gregoras.

BY THE SAME MONK NICEPHORUS GREGORAS CONCERNING THE SAME MATTERS DOGMATIC DISCOURSE SECOND

I. The things said by you up to this point, most excellent friend Agothonicus, have provided me with a sufficient and, as I myself desired, the knowledge of the things sought after, and may thanks be to you from God. But there remain from the same

^A Palamas’s utterances some things, as I have heard from certain friends who were present there, which are empty and give evidence more of ignorance than of impiety. It remains, therefore, that you should set these forth for us who desire to hear more accurately. For they say that his impiety is always mixed with an innate insipidity of tongue, which bypasses all truth and knowledge, most of all in these matters, whether out of fear of the long disgrace he is to suffer, or whether it happens so because of the irrational habit of his innate wickedness. And so that I might omit the greater part due to the lack of opportunity and mention only the moderate ones, they report this one, the first of those omitted. For, wishing to free himself from the accusation brought against him by Gregoras—that he had said God is composed of many and various divinities or qualities, and had directly fallen into contradiction of those things stated by the divine Damascene, namely that the Divine is simple and incomposite, while that which is composed of many and various things is composite, and the following—he did not, however, answer according to the proposition of that statement, but, having corrupted it as he is wont, he answered thus: “Everything that is composed and possesses essential differences is composite; but God is neither of those things which are composed nor of those which possess essential differences.” For an essential difference is that by which essence differs from essence, so that differences exist according to many species and essences. Since, therefore, the essence of God is one and entirely indivisible, for this reason it does not have essential differences. I set this forth as one of his [arguments] for your narrative in sequence, and as the second, that divine utterance of Athanasius, which, though undoubtedly most religious, he himself has transferred to the argument of polytheism. For he said in his dialogue against Arius: The Savior did not say because of created things, “All things which the Father has are mine,” but those things which He attributed to the deity of the Father, those the Lord called His own, such as the incorruptible, the immutable, the infinite, the omnipotent, the providence, and whatsoever things are the Father’s, these same are proper to the Son.

Ⅱ. ^B I pray you, excellent Agathonicus, do not punish me, your friend, by merely brushing over such an excellent discourse with excessive hesitation, as you are sometimes accustomed to do with many other people. For I see your mind is distracted in the opposite direction and, as much as I can conjecture, your brow is full of various thoughts.

Ⅲ. ^D I take it badly, most friendly Theotimus, that this has happened to me; for it occurs that I, among whom I am, often appear neither to notice nor to listen, while oblivion displaces much from the memory, which the philosophers call the book of the soul. Therefore, while I was preparing to proceed through the questions you were putting forward, I was reconsidering and gathering together those things which still hovered in my memory, and those which had perhaps yielded to other, graver things. This was what had changed my mind. Whence, since one thought after another, as is wont, has come into my mind, you may see the remainder of the discourse at your will, removing the slight delay, and now, as before, openly receiving the ready-made [discourse].

^A Since both are necessary in matters of speech and action, we recall both at suitable times and reckon them with due consideration: motion as the negation of rest and an ecstasy, and rest as a species and complement of motion, which defines and circumscribes that which is poured forth, loose, and indefinite in the former. And it is necessary to use each according to its own reason and method. You ought to know, therefore, that many such things have been omitted, as they are neither worthy of any discourse nor able to escape comic laughter. For immediately regarding the first question you proposed, Gregoras desisted after saying a few things, deeming it superfluous to attempt to respond with learned arguments to those who are completely unlearned. For, he says, just as there is no fellowship between light and darkness, so neither is there between learning and ignorance. For this reason, on account of such confusion of the matter, I deeply regret that I did not fully grasp the argument of his reasoning. Nevertheless, from what has remained in my memory, I will recount it briefly as best I can, not to provide an account in inept terms for Palamas, but because I would not wish to cause distress to you, my friend.

^C IV. For Gregoras, having turned toward those who were present there at that time, and having fixed his eyes upon them, says, “Is not this proposition stated thus directly by Palamas foolish and altogether infantile, that ‘everything that is contained and has essential differences is composite’? For the divine John of Damascus says not this, but: ‘That which is contained by many and various things is composite.’ But Palamas, out of both ignorance and malice, having slightly altered the learned and pious utterance of the saint, has overturned the whole meaning at once. For there seems to be nothing else said by him than if one were to say that every snow that has essential whiteness is ‘white snow.’ And this is, indeed, to beg the question in the beginning, and far worse. Then he added that wondrous conclusion: that God is neither among those things that are contained, nor among those that have essential differences. Now let someone tell me, in God's name, of what sort such a monstrous syllogism might be, and from what kind of novel and strange root it sprang. Then he added yet another strange and ill-contrived construction of, as it were, a different syllogism. For since, he says, the essence of God is one and altogether impartite, for this reason it has no essential differences. For an essential difference, he says, is that by which essence differs from essence. And the conclusion is that differences therefore create more forms and essences. Yet his purpose was to free himself from that which was objected against him and to show that he had not at all fallen into those things which were denied by the saint. For the Damascene denies that one should say that God is composite and contained by many and various things, which were uncreated, eternal, omnipotent, infinite, ^D which the Palamites refer as many and various uncreated things to one uncreated and simple essence. He does not know that he is falling into two absurdities. For indeed, he does not know that it is [absurd] to say that the divine is composite, nor [to say it is] from many and different things...

^A which were the uncreated, the unbeginning, the creative, the uncircumscribed, and all the things that, I suppose, those around Palamas count as many and different uncreated things in the one uncreated and simple essence. But he is unaware that he is falling into two absurdities. For he does not seem to speak a word to the point, but rather runs from one thing to another, nor, if he wished to offer a counter-argument, has he brought forward the appropriate objections, but acts much as if someone, requested to speak of the dwelling of the Ethiopians and Indians to the East, were to attempt instead, from the opposite direction, to point out the Western Celts and the nations that dwell in Britain. For where is there any following or contrary logic in his solution relative to the proposition, that what is composed of many and different things is composite? The logic he introduces—I speak of his unproven proof, his unfounded construction, his paralogistic syllogism, or rather his immediate and disjointed conclusion! For he says, since God’s essence is one and partless, therefore it consists of multiple forms and essences. Are such things not worthy of Democritus, who mocks the man’s ignorance, or rather of Heraclitus, who laments his own madness? For what he says is so full of folly that neither does the one speaking understand what he is saying, nor do those who hear understand what they are hearing. For to pass over the rest in silence, what connection do his false and discrepant propositions, unlearnedly concluded, have ^B towards the proposed words of the holy man? For seeking to address those, he has impiously led and carried these into the abyss of his own ignorance. O what a new doctrine and [what a display of] sharpness of mind! And yet, if he had wished to speak against them, perhaps more contentiously, though more learnedly—even if not correctly—he would have said what some of his wicked faction have often brought forward in opposition, namely the very words of the saint (which, if anyone wishes to follow them imprudently, would that they appeared to fight against themselves!), I mean those things said by the saint concerning the two natures of Christ. What are these? Starting from the beginning and having filled his discourse with scientific and God-befitting arguments, that divine John Damascene ^C says: “Then, when the two natures have truly been united into one person of the Son of God, we define that their essential difference is preserved. For the created remained created, and the uncreated uncreated, and the mortal remained mortal, and the immortal immortal, and the finite finite, and the infinite infinite, and the visible visible, and the invisible invisible.” And a few words later, he says: “For we know that just as his person is one, so too is the essential difference of the natures preserved.” How [does it remain], if those things which have the difference between them do not remain? Do you see how the divine John Damascene contends for nothing at all of those things that are now being attributed to him? For he would truly be fighting against himself; but he objects and opposes those who say that the divine essence is comprised by such varieties, lest they say that there are essential varieties in God, which would make it composite as in us, but [rather he maintains] that they are distinguished from created essences. For the divine essence, being one and simple, is entirely and in every way without part in variety. For variety, which has inherent dissimilarity, immediately involves plural number. Where there is number and multitude, there is no place for unique simplicity. In the same way also the divine Maximus... ^D

says that the divine is impartible because it is also without quantity. And again, he says, "Every difference is a clear indicator of dissimilarity and otherness according to the account of how things are; it naturally brings with it the 'how much' of the things differing, whether of essences or of qualities or of properties; for those things which are not entirely the same as one another do not in any way admit the one and same account of being, while those that are entirely the same as one another are incapable of difference." For having first acknowledged that the divine is simple, he then says that that which is entirely simple is incapable of difference; for it is entirely identical to itself, and monadic, and wholly and in every way unrelated, as not having the category of quantity predicated of it, and for this reason it is utterly uncountable and indivisible. Thus, he who expels the simple from the one Godhead, and grants many differences and compositions to his own godheads—or, to speak more appropriately, to his gods and goddesses—^B

V. Do you see how where there is a doubling of natures and number, there also, having found a place for difference, there is immediately division and partition, but where there is monadic simplicity—which is wholly foreign to it—there difference and partition are intolerable? Therefore, one must conclude that John Damascene is in no way arguing against himself, when here he says that "uncreated" and "immortal" and suchlike are not essential differences, but there [in the Incarnation] the essential difference remains in the conjunction of the two natures of the Son of God into one person, and that the created remains created, the uncreated uncreated, and furthermore the mortal mortal and the immortal immortal, and all things of that kind likewise; but rather, by assigning to each teaching its proper place, he speaks in a way that is consistent both with himself and with the truth. One must also pay attention to the divine Maximus, who by the things said directly refutes Palamas, who removes the simplicity of the Godhead and attributes many differences and compositions to his godheads, or rather, as is more fitting, to his gods and goddesses. ^C

VI. But the discussion must be resumed. For as regards our composite beings, essential differences create a double significance. For they both compose the forms of living creatures by giving them form, and distinguish them from other essences. But regarding that blessed and unique essence, one composition has already been approved by the holy Fathers, while the other—the distinction from all created essences—is strongly consistent. For he says that when the two natures of the Son of God are united into one person, their essential difference of deity and humanity remains.

VII. What do you say to these things, my friend Theotimes? Does it not seem to you that Palamas clearly, though ignorantly, approaches the holy Scriptures in the bacchic manner of madmen and brings forward unlearned conclusions? At one time voluntarily, at another involuntarily, now agreeing with someone and then not even with his own followers, nor with the pious ^D

^A nor with the adversaries, nor with himself? If you wish to linger a little while, you may hear what Gregoras meanwhile has concluded and brought forward regarding the folly of Palamas. Those things, he says, he does not approach, fearing that an accusation might immediately be moved against him from that source, because he himself conceives and puts forward composition in the Deity. These things, however, he voluntarily consigns to oblivion, inasmuch as they are repugnant to his own spoken and written words. For the saint says that the invisible remains invisible, the infinite remains infinite, and similarly the uncreated remains uncreated, and that in this way the essential variety of the two natures is openly preserved. He, however, mixes things that cannot be mixed, utterly confusing and disturbing them maliciously and learnedly. For he does not grant that the invisible remains invisible according to the nature and property of the uncreated and infinite, nor that the infinite remains infinite; but rather, in the nature of that which is finite and visible, this fool ^B perversely unites them with the nature of created things. For how could that which is uncreated still be able to remain uncreated, being seen and circumscribed by bodily eyes—or even by the mental ones, and those already purified—when it cannot do so at all? For as both science and Gregory of Nyssa, who follows it, say: That which is finite cannot be infinite. And that which is not infinite is altogether determined. Therefore, that determined and distinct-from-the-divine-essence uncreated God of the Palamites becomes, for Palamas, of one race with the Unoriginate and Uncreated. For his own writings convict him, as he will show himself—and anyone who might wish to approach him—to be claiming that he can make all men uncreated; thus the matter of uncreation has become, for this abject man, a venal thing, as if one were to buy it for a drachma in the marketplace.

VIII. How one might rashly pass over that statement, "Since the essence of God is one and imparts no parts, for this reason it does not have essential differences"?

^A For he claims that God, according to Maximus, multiplies through providential processions the things willed individually for the production of existing things, yet remains indivisibly one, just as the sun remains in its unity while sending forth many rays. For to say that the one God is multiplied by providential processions—that is, by the wonders here on earth and above the heavens—is, according to him, to say that He is divided and partitioned; and he bears witness here to his own falsehood, calumniating the most divine Maximus. For he shifts the saying to an alien understanding, perversely bundling and tossing it about. I do not see that the present time is suitable for me to speak further, to examine, and to teach, in this place, the ignorant man concerning this; for the thread of argument drawing me on from above does not allow me to delay, and at the same time, it could not easily enter into an untutored and artless soul, nor even a small part of the reasoned arguments [I. 171] ^B or in a very brief space of time.

IX. But let us now return from there to our earlier discourse, retracing our steps. Each of the elemental essences is one, primary, and impartible, and on that account it is not dissoluble. For we have not learned that any of them consists of form or number; it is for this reason that we call such things elemental essences. Yet they have essential varieties within their own limits. For nothing of those things which are separate, or dissolved, or partitioned, has essential differences within itself, but receives from the beginning a progressing definition composed of genus and component varieties. For when we define man, we do not speak ^C by investigating the elemental essences subject to nature; for instance, that which was said by Homer: "Curved of shoulders, dark of complexion, and thick-haired," and if any such thing pertains only to the separate essences; but we say that he is a rational and mortal animal, capable of intelligence and science. We do not explain him by the first elements of nature from the beginning, nor do we say that man is man because he contains within himself Plato and Socrates—these elemental and impartible essences, as we said—but because he is composed and formed according to the genus of animal and the named component varieties, and is led into a defined nature. But Palamas, due to great ignorance, forces the rivers to flow upstream, as the proverb has it, by saying: "Since the essence of God is one and impartible, [I. 171] ^D for this reason it has no essential differences." And furthermore, that "Since is a conjunction that is constructive, and signifies both existence and the order of causal sequence, as it exists as a connector of the extremes on either side and holds the cause of them." Through such ignorance, the things said have been muddied to such a degree that there is need of an Homeric seer like Calchas. But I do not think that even he, if he were present, would be able to bring an explanation to these obscure questions, since in my opinion he himself cannot solve the things that he has brought forth from his own mind. For the things that are posited by causal reasoning are solved by a similar reasoning; those that are not, are not.

X. We must, therefore, also look at this second ignorance following his first; for he does not know that the cause exists simultaneously with the effect in the case of relative things, and [cannot be understood] without it...

thought of as having a copulative and conjunctive force between them. Let us add a brief example, since cause is often added: the efficient cause is, for instance, the architect of a house; the final cause is the protection for which the house is built; the material, the stones and wood from which the house is constructed; the formal cause, the shape conceived and fashioned in the artist’s mind; the exemplar, another building according to whose model the artist finishes what he has in hand; the natural cause, as a father is to a son. There are also causes of one another, as sickness is to health and health to sickness. Some learned men say that chance is also sometimes a joint cause in things done for a purpose by design. Since, therefore, there are many ^B kinds of cause—and all of them certainly possess a connection with one another—let him come forward and tell me under which of these he reduces the logic of his statements. For since at least three terms are always taken in syllogisms, the middle term must necessarily have a causal connection with the extremes. ^C But Palamas’s ignorance does not think so; for what he says is similar to if someone were to say: "Because snow is white, therefore it is not sensible." For just as whiteness there has no relative connection to an object of sense—for the one is different from the other—so he thinks it does not pertain at all to the indivisibility of the essence to have essential differences. Furthermore, in asserting that the divine essence differs from all mundane and supermundane essences, we are in no way troubled by its indivisibility; for its indivisibility is not ^D according to these indivisible essences in the world (for it is foolish both to think and to say this), but because it is incorporeal, unbulky, without beginning, uncircumscribed, supersubstantial, and not subject at all to any limits or technical divisions. Except for the sake of an explanation more accommodated to philosophy and the teaching of St. Basil, if someone, in wishing to define essence in the simple and incorporeal nature, were to say that essence is a thing existing by itself, not having need of another for its subsistence. We say that such a definition applies only to that divine and most simple nature, and to none of all created things. For they are all composite, and every composite has its being from different things; each of these has need of the others. Therefore, it could not be lacking nothing, neither the parts nor the whole being completed from things that are in need. For it has a clear argument that it was previously in need of the addition of all those things, and was simultaneously brought into being—not *being* in the sense of beginning. For it is necessary for that which it needs to be inferior. As it becomes inferior, it enters into servitude. What serves is not its own master, nor does it exist by itself. Therefore, except for the one divine essence, no other possesses independent existence. St. Maximus declared God to be the creator of essences endowed with quality, and nature itself teaches this, with perceptions assisting the mind. For he says that the one, simple, and indigent-less and immovable essence of the holy Trinity is the creator of the universe. Every creature, however, is composed of essence and quality. Every quality is entirely subject to the essence in which it is perceived and is named, not...

having its existence in itself in any way. For this reason, it is impossible to find in the world any essence that could stand on its own without corresponding qualities. For example, if someone were to remove—I do not say in reality (for this is impossible), but in thought—the innate qualities of a stone, or rather of snow, namely its whiteness and coldness and moisture and anything of that kind, nothing at all would be left. But how could that which is nothing in itself possess self-existence? You will find this to be true in the same way for all things that exist and for all essences. ^B

XI. You can therefore, dearest Theotimus, see in a few words the irregular rules of Palamas, removed from every rule and resting on weak foundations, and the norm of his style—if I may put it so—the poorly adjusted Lesbian rule, and the inept conclusions which, because of his ignorance, he brings forth from the discarded treasury of his insane mind. You can see how he has filled pure and healthy religion with many vile stains, pouring out ineptitudes into his very speech, to use the words of the wise Sophocles. For he was not even able to withdraw himself from the burden of the reproach brought against him, and he openly showed great ignorance as his companion, and an even greater folly of heresy. Therefore, he justly hears what he does not wish to hear, since he states unjustly whatever he wishes, not only because he is profane and irreligious, but also because he is rashly profane and irreligious, surpassing all those who are irreligious by his excessive impiety and securing for himself an unspeakable dishonor by means of the atrocious deeds he has accumulated to an immense degree. ^C

And enough has been said regarding the first question proposed to you. But as to the second, the utterance of the divine Athanasius, Gregoras responded in this way—proving the matter with testimonies drawn from Scripture and adding what had been left out of the previous question. You know, dearest Theotimus, that in his discourse against Arius, Athanasius said that the Savior did not speak as he did on account of created things: "All that the Father has are mine," but whatever He attributes to the Father’s deity, those things the Lord called His own; for example, the incorruptible, the immutable, the incomprehensible, the omnipotent, the providential; whatever things are the Father’s, these are the Son’s own. ^D In that same place, Gregoras says that the great Athanasius, by that plural expression, "not on account of created things," denies not only that they are created, but even that they are "things." But if he did not add an affirmation to the negation, this is not at all surprising. For the great theologian Gregory also says that there are many things that are spoken of in this way negatively, and not positively, such as: "For God does not give the Spirit by measure." For He neither gives it measured, for God is not measured by God. And thus he immediately and clearly removes those who think that many things, and at the same time uncreated things, are worthy of God and are many names. For he says the Savior did not say all those things on account of many things. For it is impossible for those things that are many and spoken of in the plural number to be uncreated. For the divine nature, namely that of the holy Trinity, is one. And it is one, not many, as has often been proved above by us with arguments from Scripture.

The divine John of Damascus likewise says: if we were to call many gods, it would be necessary for a variety to be discerned among many. If there is no difference between them, it is one, not many. For those things which differ, as the divine Maximus says, could not differ among themselves unless the causes from which they have come into being had variety; for neither the perfect, nor the infinite, nor the unlimited can be preserved in many. ^B

XII. Do you see how, where the argument introduces the concept of difference, a multitude immediately follows, and the One is driven out along with the perfect, the infinite, and the unlimited, and all that is proper to the divine essence—or rather, all that the divine essence is by nature? Therefore, where there is that which is strictly One—namely, God—there is no place whatever for many and diverse things. For that divine One does not imply a certain thesis, as is the case with that which is called "one" in created things in an improper sense, and which is perceived in the many, and which they say is the beginning of all quantity, and which does not exist by itself without an essence, nor can there be a multitude without this one. For the consequence and form of the One subjects the quantity of many things, whence a single decad is spoken of, and a thousand, and ten thousand, and those which are lesser than these, and a single tetrad and pentad, and such like, and all things which by participation in the form are identified and referred to the one. For there is that which is "many" in parts, but "one" in integrity; "many" in circumstances, but "one" in subject; "many" in forms, but "one" in genus; "many" in outcome, but "one" in principle. ^C And not only in individual things, but all continuous magnitudes also, if they flee from the One, are broken up by reciprocity into a multitude, and lose the essence they possessed, no longer being what they were. For in proportion as a thing loses the One, it changes and is divided, because the One is that which unites and encompasses all elements, whenever generation involves it in growth and decay. For the otherness that introduces a difference in being casts a thing easily into the concept of non-being. But that divine One is not like this; for it is the creator of those composite things, being altogether simple and above the world. It does not signify such a thesis, but rather an exemption from the many, both things sensible and things intelligible. For if what is strictly being is one, then the One will be that which is strictly being and is beyond every mind. But of the One which is beyond all things, there is nothing. Hence, the mind is also said to be an image of that One. For the mind is a wakeful light and a persistent life and intellection that does not act towards the future, ^D but is always concerned with present things and things that are in the same state, being in harmony with themselves and never in any way conflicting. To such a One, namely God, are referred all those many names according to the divine Athanasius, which he has previously set forth in other books and which he now sets forth—namely, the incorruptible, the immutable, the incomprehensible, the powerful, the foreknowing, and all that the Father is, and which he also says are proper to the Son, if indeed they are natural and essential, or rather, I should say, the Son himself. Whatever is attributed to the Father naturally and essentially, as St. Cyril says...

all these things are the Son. Therefore, the incorruptible, the immutable, the incomprehensible, the powerful, the foreknowing, and whatever the Father is, all these are the Son. For even if it is spoken descriptively and according to our manner of speaking, the properties of the Son are not spurious and adventitious; for they are understood, and are, and are called one and the same with the divine and most simple nature. For whatever pertains to the Godhead, he says, in a single and uniform manner—namely, to that which is one, simple, and alone—these things are common and natural to the Father and the Son, and are one and the same, since the Godhead is one, just as nature is. Cyril also agrees with Athanasius in *Thesaurus*, calling the Spirit the Spirit of the Son. ^A Observe also how in the proposition, having said in the plural, "All that the Father has and all that pertained to the Godhead of the Father," he subsequently, having gathered them into one, concluded, not "all that the Father has," but "all that the Father is." For having removed both the description of "having" and the notion of many created things, he did not say, "All that they are," nor "All that the Father has," but "All that is," naming them as titles worthy of God, since that divine simplicity does not admit of any plural notion at all. Do you see how the great Athanasius doctrinally reduced into one that which was said in the plural, "All that the Father has is mine," having previously forbidden one to think that that divine utterance refers to many created things? For regarding "what is possessed" and "what possesses," regarding the same and the other, and about such things, you yourself remember, as was briefly argued above in the places appropriate to each.

XIII. But if you wish, let that harmonious advocate, the divine Basil, also be called upon, who says that all God-befitting names and concepts have equal value with one another, because they do not differ in meaning from the subject. For whatever names, he says, you speak concerning God—both affirmative and privative, or rather prohibitive and negative—which are sometimes said by the saints to be present or not present, the thing signified through them all is one, whether it be "good" or "just" (which are called affirmative), or "immortal" or "incorruptible" (which are called negative). For by those which are said to be present, we affirm; and by these, we deny what is not present, as he himself says in the works spoken concerning God, written against Eunomius. Whence, the Nameless One becomes "many-named" for us who are at a loss for a name that properly fits, since we are forced to uncover the notion of God implanted in us through a multitude of names. For a name significant of the divine nature, says Gregory of Nyssa, we have not learned; but we seek the manifestation of such a declaration, through which the ineffable and invisible nature is included, or we say that it is not at all, or else that it is entirely unknown to us. And the multitude of God-befitting names is like lines converging in a straight line from the circumference of a circle to the center, which, while divided outside, cannot divide the center. For in investigating the intelligible nature, since it is placed above the perception of the senses, we—

as the mind conjectures, straining after those things which escape the senses—are moved, one toward one thing and another toward another, concerning the object sought; and according to the understanding engendered in each regarding the subject, we declare, as best we are able, what has been conceived. But the ignorant Palamas, through a perverse opinion, having made a habit worse than the common [depravity] by twisting the sayings of the saints, has confounded the Church of God, I know not whether unwillingly, through ignorance of their opinion, or willingly blaspheming; and in objects and various things, he impiously takes away all those various divine names and proclaims many and various uncreated gods and deities from them. For he seems not even to have heard Gregory of Nyssa saying: "If men did not believe that the adorable nature is one, but distributed it in their thought into various deities, there would be nothing to constitute the notion of God emerging through the creature; but the divine principle believed to be in the creature would straightway remain for anyone who was about to inquire into the same estimation, and into all its consequences, since the primary fraud would have permeated from it through those things nearby even to the furthest extremes." Then he says: "Lest we suffer this, let us turn our eyes to the true Deity, taught by the Scripture; we have learned to think of all that is created as outside of the divine nature, and to worship and venerate only the uncreated nature, whose sign and mark it is that it neither begins to exist nor ends." ^C

XIV. Do you see the unquestionable and unanswerable nature of the traditional decrees and sayings set forth with all perspicuity and clarity? For we are exhorted to worship and venerate only the divine essence and nature; but as for those things which are non-essential, and many, and placed outside the divine nature, we are exhorted to worship or venerate none of them in any way. For they are hostile to one another and utterly contradictory, the many to the one, and the non-essential to the essence. For it is necessary that we fall into either the atheism of the impious or the even more impious wickedness of the polytheism of the Greeks, passing by the religion that lies between. As we have demonstrated before, and repeatedly, this: namely, that the polytheism of the Greeks had attained a small and not infinite number, but that of Palamas, one can never find an end—I know not whether to say it is because he will not or because he cannot; for both have a great scope for it, at once and not at once. ^D For of those things which flow from an ignorant and malignant mind, there is nothing that does not reek of great wickedness, both privately and publicly. And these matters stood thus, and in this way it has fallen to Gregoras to have discoursed concerning the two questions.

DOGMATIC BOOK III.

^A 1. Let these things, most excellent Protagoras, be enough. As for what has been said by you up to this point, I have partly heard it discussed elsewhere, and I have partly written it down, having drawn it from the thoughts of my own mind, thus, so to speak, renewing the spring of memory for myself and at the same time refreshing the old age of forgetfulness. I know well that I owe you not meager, but most abundant thanks, first of all for the dialectical contests of Gregoras, who, as our ally, girds himself against the adversaries of holy doctrine; and secondly, for your own wisdom, for you have excellently shared with me the most distinguished of his sayings, and thus have set a most delicious table before me with greatness of mind and the highest service. But if you are willing, be eager to fulfill this second request of mine before God. I have heard that Joasaph, the emperor who had recently abdicated, Cantacuzenus, was greatly angered at Gregoras, who had composed writings and long histories regarding that discussion and had made them public property to the ignominy of the Palamite followers. I heard that he had selected certain parts from these books, and, having convened private councils of unlearned interpreters at home and having called in senseless theologians, he had, with their aid, suddenly concocted absurd doctrines, and on that same day had thus arranged an *ex tempore* explanation of the discourses. Then, after he had spoken and heard many insults against Gregoras—or rather against religion itself—he had written these into several books, and, handing them into the hands of the heretics, had ordered that their mass of most disgraceful insults be committed to writing as quickly as possible. But after a year and a half had passed, a vain and unfruitful summer of expectations blossomed for them, and that which is in the proverb was manifest: for the mountain, as they say, was in labor and brought forth a mouse; and the expected treasures had turned to coals. All the proverbs of this sort found an opportunity to be cited at that time; for after so much time, as has been said, their impious booklets appeared, possessing more ignorance than impiety—or rather, ^B

^A they brought disapproval upon those who held them, and caused long-lasting laughter among our own folk. Therefore, appearing briefly together with the stricken air, they departed to nothingness. Yet there was no satiety even so for the impiety that had seized the impious, but they walked one path after another in their reasonings. And at last, this path was deemed by them the best. For through friendly words and mutual friends, Cantacuzenus deemed it worthy to invite Gregoras to his home, perhaps for the recalling and renewal of that former friendship. And he, thinking the matter contained a promise of rectification, came himself, as they say, and was leading you as a fellow traveler. And these are the things I had heard from anyone; but I would gladly learn from you what happened next, and how and whence the discussions began again, and how they were concluded.

^B II. When both [had arrived], O friend Cleodemus, having gone early in the morning to the monastic cell of the former emperor Cantacuzenus, you had at first a pleasant and quietly sweet beginning of conversation, and exactly as had been their custom for a long time; but what followed was filled with turbulence and noise, having reverted to such things. For as the emperor Cantacuzenus began in the middle of the conversation to praise Palamas, immediately the men who were with him in the monastery, who thought themselves to be full of all wisdom, both marveled at Palamas himself and praised his dogmas even more than did the emperor Cantacuzenus, saying how well he spoke concerning the energies, that they are infinite and distinct from the divine essence, yet uncreated and [not] essential, and how well he also [spoke] concerning the light that had appeared of old on Mount Tabor, declaring that that too is uncreated and another divinity distinct from the divinity of Jesus. Gregoras immediately responded, rebuking them for how I might speak to them, and attacking their impropriety, that ^C they could not understand even after the instruction of the Lord, nor did any shame come upon them that the habit they now wore is a monastic one, but they were plainly lying about it, speaking things alien to it and alien to the time, and playing at things not for play. For the habit does not command one only to theologize, but does not even allow one to speak outside of the prescribed hymnody to God, but rather [commands] to work at all times with the hands as much as possible. And at the same time he brought in the testimonies of the holy men of old, which were more daunting, having as it were a certain reverence in their gray hairs due to the virtue and antiquity of those who said them. For we hear, he says, also Paul saying, "These hands have served me and those with me." And John, the teacher of the monastic way of life, says that much speaking is a throne of vainglory, a proof of ignorance, a conductor of levity, a minister of falsehood, a destruction of compunction, a door to slander—that is, the slander against men, and by no means against God; for this would not even enter the mind of that holy man. ^D For he who so punished slander against men, how would he not have been astonished and struck dumb if he had heard slanders against God? For unseasonable theology by the ignorant is entirely slander against God. And this is clear to us by

^A what Chrysostom will immediately say: "For God," he says, "honored you, not so that you might insult Him; for he who pries into His essence insults Him." To these things, those men brought forward their usual objection: "Are we then," he says, "to say farewell to the theological books of the saints, as if they were written for no useful purpose for those who have labored over them? And shall we ignore the divine Gospel that exhorts us to search the Scriptures?"

III. To this, Gregoras replied in roughly this way: ^B "You bring forward to me, O men, the words of heretics. And who are these? Men whose absurd search and meddlesomeness were publicly refuted by Chrysostom, as you have apparently not yet heard. But listen now, even if it might not be entirely to your liking, to how he continuously and strenuously refutes the objections of the heretics. 'Declare,' he says, 'your confession, O heretic. When you came to be baptized, what did you say? And at the time of those fearsome mysteries, you brought faith; but now you pry into the essence of God?' But see what the adversary of truth argues in return: 'What?' he says, 'Did God give us an idle mind? Have we not truly received the criterion of reason? Therefore, we must search the faith with reasoning, and piety ought not to be unexamined.' But one must, O enemy of truth, ^C set limits to our examination with the divine oracles and the laws of piety given to us by Him. You, however, by overstepping them, do violence to the truth. And see again what arguments the heretic brings forward. 'We do not find,' he says, 'the faith to be secure everywhere. For we find that Adam fell from faith.' Observe also Chrysostom's counter-argument: 'See,' he says, 'again the steps of the evil demon, who dares everything. But he who believes in a random person is not the believer, but he who truly believes in God. For have you shown that he who believed in God perished? He perished by believing in the devil, and he slipped by disbelieving in God.' With these words, therefore, he stopped the mouth of the heretic then; and not only him, but even as many others as, from that time to this present day, bring forward the same things as those heretics, are all struck down by the same ^D weapons of Chrysostom.

IV. After these words, some began to prepare snares. For it was Cantacuzenus's habit in such matters to instruct conspirators and to bring forth from hiding the forces of Telchines, for himself a firm support, but for his adversaries a great terror. The one who rose up first among them, and who was in greatest conspiracy with all the others and shared the same mind and was greatly beloved by all, seized upon the discussion concerning that light on Mount Tabor, and heaped insults upon Theodorus, who had suffered extreme torments for Christ and the divine precepts of the Church; who, among the Iconoclasts, after many and various scourgings, like a lamb stretched out upon the ground, had been pricked with iron needles and had his whole face lacerated; yet he had not cast away his soul until, as an exile, he had surrendered it to the incorrupt Judge, God. But he insulted him because...

^A he had published writings to the faithful that detected the impiety of the Iconoclasts, and now also that of the Palamites, who propped themselves up with that same argument; I speak of the light on Mount Tabor, which we shall explain more fully as the discourse proceeds. "But what Church," he said, "has recognized this man? Who has ever observed his commemoration?" And adding many other things to this, he heaped up a pile of insults, saying that all the books which are generally said to have been written against the Iconoclasts are overly full of depraved opinions, and that had his name not been inscribed on the books by certain other interpolators, it would have remained unknown; yet the books themselves, which indeed exist, were to be thrown away along with the name, and he himself was to be numbered among the other heretics.

^B V. When Gregoras had heard these words, so full of great impiety, he was struck sharply in his soul and remained dumb for a long interval of an hour. But then, filled with spirit and divine indignation, he turned to Cantacuzenus with these words: "Why do you not let my old age remain tranquil? Why do you always trouble me with your heresy, and why do you not come to my aid, I who am now worn out by age and with whom so much misery now weighs heavy? Why now from here, now from there, bursting forth as if from an ambush and a thicket, do you not wage a just war against me face to face? There is neither place nor time in which you do not turn your most insolent temptations against me. Why, regarding divine dogmas, do you build up now these, now those, ^C Olymposes and Parnassuses of insults, fabricated by you and yet contrived too late and in vain? Why do you always dig pitfalls against the holy Fathers which are dug by your counsel alone? Why do you suddenly present as a new Archilochus, or rather an ape of Archilochus, against that divine Father and most wise teacher of the Church, one who, before he has learned anything, thinks he has acquired without effort the laurel of Hesiodic wisdom, and that for his mere wishes the prize of dogmatic combat will be deferred to him? Have you not heard what that miserable and furious little man has vomited against you? What, did these things not disgust your ears and your words and your mind? Speak to these things, so that we may know if you yourself harbor the same spirit in these matters. For your silence, ^D harboring a suspicion of an evil conscience, will, I fear, stir up many billows of slander against you. What? Does this man not openly testify to his own and his followers' fanatical worship against us and profess the greatest impiety? For him whom all the assemblies of the pious honor with a clear voice, and whom choirs of holy writers and teachers celebrate throughout every period of time, and whose labors and excellent contests have resounded throughout the whole earth—him this man asserts he does not know, as if he who has reached such an advanced age were experienced in neither, as if he were a blind man who had not seen what was before his feet, and a deaf man who had not heard what was on the lips of all. Which is just as if someone were to affirm that he did not know whether any of the living enjoyed this universal light, that solar lamp by which all things on earth are illuminated. But of the two, the other...

alternative follows: either, because it is customary for his heretical conventicles and legally forbidden for them to hold sacred assemblies, he himself also performed no such sacred acts at all; or, if they did occasionally convene, he chanced to be present among them, yet without discerning the swarm of infinite uncreated deities, his presence there being merely an outward appearance and not of his own deliberate mind and intention, for he feared that he might be publicly insulted. Therefore, though having eyes he saw nothing, and having ears he heard nothing, nor did he understand any of the things said, so that the words of Holy Scripture rightly apply to him: "Hearing they will hear, and will not understand; and seeing they will see, and will not perceive; for their heart has been hardened." ^B

VI. But since there are many who celebrate these things about him throughout the whole Church, as many as proclaim the good news of piety across sea and land, it seems appropriate to me to choose one or two now and bring them forward, and to show this man—and any others who may perchance be companions of his rashness—the lion by his claws and the garment by its hem (I refer to the struggles of the martyr of whom we spoke, how many and what sort he endured, which, though they were beyond human strength, he nevertheless overcame by nature, and through which he even became stronger). To this is added the magnitude of his wisdom, with which he attacked the opinions of the Iconoclasts and dissolved them like a spider's web. For he who first transmitted the memory of almost all the holy men to the ears of the faithful for all time, and added this crown to his own discourses, a man full of divine love—I mean Symeon Metaphrastes—let him, having come before us here, affirm these things in few words in passing. For after having recounted those many wounds and tortures, how many and what sorts the brave ^C Theodore then endured, he also makes passing mention of the very eloquent discourses which he delivered against the most noble Iconoclasts of that time and the three tyrants who succeeded one another in power within twenty-five years, teaching that honour is to be paid to the holy images, illuminating dogmatic matters, and refuting the depraved opinions of the heretics by the power of his eloquence and the greatness of his spirit. Whence he says it came to pass that the emperor admired him, and sought by flatteries to deceive him and win him over to himself—a man distinguished by such wisdom—by whose aid he hoped that he would soon be superior to many; he says that this emperor was seized by a desire to make him a friend of his own mind, rather than to command those whose spirit was opposed to his. But he says that the books which he published concerning piety are proofs of his wisdom and his resistance against the tyrants; these will always, by the will of God, provide a precious treasure to those who love piety. In addition to these things, he also sets forth these: "His body," he says, "when it was already lacerated by stripes and the ground was dyed with his blood, he, devoid of all sense of pain, stood naked in the midst of the tribunal, as if adorned by an ornament of those weals, and as a spectacle to angels and men, ^D

according to Saint Paul. Who, he asks, could describe the imprisonments, the shipwrecks, the famine, the heat of the sun, the cold of the night, the ambushes, the uprisings, the daily deaths, the blows upon blows, the scourging, and the ^A buffeting and stigmas upon his head? Finally, he says, worn out by old age and disease, and furthermore pressed by the hardships of his imprisonment, he commends his soul to God while in that very prison, having maintained his life blameless in conduct, his word unerring in piety, and having left behind an irreproachable memory of his martyrdom. It is said, moreover, that at that time one of the elders, ^B moved by a great zeal for piety, disregarded even the royal threats and spared not his own life, in order that he might fall in faith before the relics of the blessed one and share in the grace from there. And having become one of the singers at the time of his departure, he was confirmed, as he later testified, as having heard at that time a most sweet and marvelous voice of ones chanting from above, whether one might consider this angelic or some other occurrence by the providence of God. It is known to God and to those deemed worthy to discern such things. And he says that the sacred body of the saint lies there, honored with abundant miracles at all times, and providing to all who approach it health of soul, health of body, and, to speak simply, release from all manner of passions for the glory of God our Savior Christ. These things regarding the wisdom and ^C miracles of Theodore the divine Metaphrastes sets forth, as it were in a type and as in a shadow, to reveal the truth to those not understanding. Indeed, Theophanes the Great, that luminary of the Church, who in his own right celebrated brilliantly and enduringly with his own most wise odes all the saints—nearly all of them, throughout every day of the entire year—who had been consecrated to God through his efforts and who, having struggled in both ascetic and ^D martyr’s ways, had departed, and who, as has been said, was a brother to that divine martyr Theodore and wise teacher of God’s Church in soul, body, mind, and struggle—attending and suffering with him throughout—since he was left alone in life after those greatest struggles of his had passed, and having—when the fury of the iconoclasts had finally subsided by the providence of God—been moved to compassion by the struggles of these men, he also adorns this man with his own odes, singing of those things and recounting those of which he himself was an eyewitness, and being a trustworthy witness and fellow-combatant.

VII. But it seems good to me here, even from these noble things, to put forward a few for the demonstration of the argument, and to show these to be altogether superior to the insults brought against the holy man today by this adversary. For the noble and like-minded athlete says to that noble and divine and all-wise man: "The cherubim of the tree of life yield before the sight of your face; and the flaming sword turns its back to you in reverence, all-wise Theodore." And again, "The title formerly rested upon the head of the King Christ, inscribed upon the wood of the cross; but your title, all-wise one, is fixed upon your face, inscribed in more glorious characters."

^A And again: "Christ of old, who was lifted up upon the cross, had his side pierced; but you, O sacred initiate, having been laid upon the wood, steadfastly endured the piercing, being sacrificed like a preeminent ram." But as for me, though I have many such things to say and even greater ones, I am unwilling to seem burdensome to those who have no desire to hear; for to those for whom what is sufficient is not sufficient, nothing at all will suffice, not even if someone were to surpass human nature and utter thunderous words. For where so many cry out on his behalf throughout the whole inhabited world, year after year and at every turn of time, and if men praise him in such a way from land and sea and every eastern and western land, and for whom the Cherubim, having been shamed by the wood of the one who suffered for the sake of piety for Christ, yield the place of life, and to whom the flaming sword gives way, for this miserable man to say he does not know who he is—what means could there possibly be that is capable of reaching his impossible and stony soul? ^B I, for my part, am overcome here by a great and unfathomable bewilderment, not because I lack defensive arguments (for countless weapons of defense lie before me, promising the dissolution of his logic); but since to know the law of the Lord belongs to a good mind, and a good mind is entirely absent from him, and a long and unseasonable darkness dances over his thoughts, no law or instruction of the Lord will ever be able to reach him. For if it is because of our rational soul that we are called humans, and because of the sensitive one that we are animals, and in addition we are living beings because of the nutritive one, then as for one whom it has not befallen to live according to the rules and laws of the rational soul, I certainly would not be able to say to which category he ought to be assigned; but let anyone who does not have an idle tongue say so, so as to dispense definitive arguments regarding matters that are completely obvious. So if it seems to me both burdensome to argue with a man who is bold and dull-witted in his thinking, there is nothing, I think, new or strange in this regarding my duty, but rather it is altogether ^C fitting and not at all unworthy for a bold and sluggish man who acts without reverence to be opposed.

VIII. Gregoras, having said such things and having preluded in this way, subsequently added long discourses to these, rebuking the vain and incoherent dogmas of his adversaries. He sent forth arguments that were truly invincible against the target, as if from a well-bent and sturdy bow, fighting for the dogmas of the holy men of the Church and for the holy Fathers who had composed them, and especially for that holy man, I mean Theodore Graptus, against whom that forward man, that violator of all doctrine, had raged. But when he saw the arrogance of the blasphemers turning for the worse, and their mind and furious tongue casting off all shame, he rose up suddenly and departed. For he preferred to yield the place rather than to hear things of even greater insolence, and to suffer something unexpectedly at their hands, being entangled in nets like birds ^D of the air that, oblivious to the liberty in the sky and given to them by nature, rush voluntarily into nets and snares and, flying hither and thither blindly, entangle themselves before they have perceived and noticed and observed the dangers that were threatening them.

^A IX. Now as he was leaving that place, he met along the road, scattered here and there, several men from the Palamite faction who were on their way to the monastery of Cantacuzenus, having been secretly summoned by him before daybreak through messengers for a dialectical council that had long ago been plotted against Gregoras, having received promise from him to spend that entire day there. They were therefore surprised, beyond their expectation, to see him departing just as he had met the followers of Gregoras, while the sun was still completing its early morning course. And so, some of these men ran after him and asked the reason for his such hasty return. When he began to relate the details one by one, a desire seized them to follow him and to object by stating whatever they knew to be consistent and in agreement with the consensus of their faction. But when they had already accompanied Gregoras past the house, they carried on the thread of that conversation with a broader tongue, and brought the disease of impiety into clear view. And it was possible to see that falling ill with the disease was more grievous than the disease itself. For what they knew, they did not know well, and in what they set forth, that decorous progress was absent. For as the books were opened immediately, which had long ago been expounded by the holy Fathers, the truth no longer had any need of a forced art; for the refutation of falsehood walked of its own accord easily into the light. To those, therefore, to whom it is most pleasant to be proven ^B to lie with impunity, to them it is most hateful and heavier than all the Olympians to be simply confronted. These men, therefore, being exasperated, shouted with a multi-tongued clamor like the crows of Pindar, not to say like jackdaws, which with discordant cries make a clatter and irritate the ears most vehemently. Wherefore, if I wish to revolve these things in my mind, and to explain and arrange and refer them to order, ^C and to collect into one the digressions and those turnings of the arguments, and the attempts and observations instituted for each point, and whatever is accustomed to be brought and set forth in arguments for the opposite side, it becomes too difficult for me, and I retreat into the leisure and tranquility of silence.

^D X. Do not say these things to me, nor foist them upon me, dearest Protagoras. For no profit will come to either of us from silence. To me indeed it brings an intolerable loss, and to those whose ears are curious for the best things. But as for you, you would easily see how much danger the matter threatens if you were to inquire more deeply and better, and to consider how you might render the tongue of the adversaries mute with selected and weightier arguments, and how you would strengthen our minds, for some already waver on account of ignorance of the facts; not to mention that some call this sickness an opinion bereft of anchors and wavering now hither and now thither like ships that are dragged by a tow-rope, which the waves of a turbulent sea carry off by night and cast upon the nearest shores and the mainland. But that I may not seem troublesome to you, I do not want you to recount every single thing to me, by exciting a continuous memory of the events of the day. For according to the oracle, I never desire an excess, and as for those with whom I am always associated—

I offer the advice that they too should show restraint. Come now, loose the cables of your tongue, set your chariot forth with full sails, you who offend the attentive ears that provide a solid foundation and vehemently desire the narration. It also appears to be an excellent stimulant if, for the sake of friendship, the tongue is willing to speak with pleasure and to follow the full force of the narration, provided that the tongue is willing to speak with zeal and to look toward the substantial parts of the discourse. ^A XI. As for me, having often admired the power of your discourse and your most true reasonings, dear Cleodemus, I now admire even more than before the persuasion of your words, which I condense for you into a short space. That is why, not wishing to grieve one whom I have chosen to serve, I will speak—yet but moderately from many things, and only as much as is necessary for the need and the occasion, for your own benefit and simultaneously for those who wish to hear these things along with you. But if, for your sake and the sake of those like you, I strip my oration of all ornamentation and render it simple—whereby, indeed, the authority of Gregoras will be diminished, as will my own related reasoning and discipline, whatever it may be—from this you may conclude what sort and how great a friendship I hold for you in the inner recesses of my soul. ^B If, however, the narration should not meet with your wishes, do not be angry with me. For in these matters, as in many others, fortune holds sway, keeping disparate and dissenting things separate; yet in those matters which render the soul benevolent and mature in its undertakings, all things are weighed as if on a sure and divine balance. XII. Therefore, regarding the other matters which it was necessary for you to hear, you have heard me narrating from the beginning up to this point as much as was possible. But if now I should attempt to speak of the miracles on Mount Tabor, I fear that in bringing forward the arguments of others, snares and all the wickedness of impiety will immediately be set for me before the gates. I know, indeed, that according to the true principles of nature there is no difficulty in the matter, for it is easy to lean upon the ^C testimonies of the saints, which contain the invincible truth, and thus to extricate ourselves from difficulties. But, as it were, two waylayers suddenly rush out upon us from both sides of the road, appearing unexpectedly from some dark ravine, and suddenly attacking, they shake at us the impossible and proclaim their desire to forcefully strip away the peaceful. For to speak about the essence and nature of God, and to cross the just boundaries—on account of which we are commanded by the Fathers to keep silence and to abstain from theological disputations—and to bring such things before the ears of the untaught, who deem holy things ridiculous and consider nothing superior to their own vanity, nor anything better than to speak unrestrictedly from their own bellies, and to make their own ignorant mind and unbridled tongue the arbiter—all these things promise me great danger, not only for my soul, which is worth more than the whole world, as Holy Scripture says, but also for our doctrine and the caution necessary in such matters. ^D For neither is appropriate for men who wish to live safely and at leisure. Wherefore, by no means, friend Cleodemus, do I intend in my mind or

^A stir up within myself much that censures us, unless, like those who shoot arrows from a quiver, we too should thoughtlessly dare to speak at random, or, as it were, throwing away the holy things to the dogs and casting pearls before swine. For then, perhaps, one ought to cast off silence and speak, when one is not about to speak things worthy of silence, dragged down by the violent compulsion of matters. But when ^B long and uncertain waves offer to overwhelm the discourse, and bring upon it a manifold and various brine of tumults, then indeed it is far better to possess a tongue that is mute than one that is speaking. For the same Mount Tabor, as it was formerly a pretext for the heresy of the Iconoclasts, so too it has become for this Palamas and any faction that may be aligned with him, ^C acting together in his impious and lawless deeds and taking the lead in violating the holy laws of the Church, as if some sort of pure dye had seized them to the very depths of their wickedness. Unless, perhaps, someone might meet me saying that this [faction] exceeds that heresy of the Iconoclasts in many and more grievous diseases, and that for this reason these things require an examination and arguments far longer than those against them. For as regards those others, the thing had become a pretext for this one and singular scandal, on account of which they had wickedly struck against the good, ^D willingly thrusting themselves out of the truth and easily rolling into Iconoclasm; but these men not only partook of and exceeded that passion, as has been said, but also lavished upon it another wickedness, manifold and multiform. And what is this? The Euchites, clearly, and the Messalians, whose unsound and disputed judgment, along with their faithless belief, the divine teachers of the Church have long ago condemned and enjoined us to abstain from. For some of them, with unseemly reasoning and lack of restraint of tongue, say that they see the very essence of God, directly conversing with them, and not in the way or at the time that He wills, but as they themselves will; while others, setting at naught that which is simple and alone uncreated of the divine essence, divide it utterly into infinite and various uncreated deities. 396 I pass over their lawless and demoniacal actions, since, forsooth, it is a matter of great shame not only to utter them with the tongue, but even to remember them with a mere thought. Nevertheless, we must speak the words of the holy Maximus regarding them, as he explains the holy Dionysius. For he says that after they have trained themselves in an ascetic life beyond measure for three years only, they become so indifferent for the rest of their lives that they commit every absurdity without shame, such as adultery, venereal lusts, gluttony, the use of others’ wives, and, to use few words, all manner of licentiousness, in which they were immersed and of which they were not ashamed to do openly; and thus, as if alienated from all sense, they labored under the disease of their own intemperance, and [endured] harsh tortures, both from themselves and from the demons that dwelt in them, as if they were affected by phrensy.

^B XIII. Whoever wishes to consult [the records] may find regarding these matters, in the discourse on the *Practica* of the holy and ecumenical third synod, and likewise of the seventh, how they proclaim and condemn their foul deeds, and how they call these same people Massalians and Marcionists. Furthermore, other very many and clear testimonies will suffice even now for evidence, and before all else the documents both from Mount Athos, which have come to us ^C twice, thrice, and often, published and freely laid bare, by which each of their shameful acts is pointed out. But if it were [a matter] of our piety and holy doctrine to understand how Thabor and Hermon were celebrated in the name of the Lord, and if it were entirely necessary in this regard to inquire into what was joined with the miracles wrought there, and to attribute to them the highest veneration: the first task would be that these things be accurately investigated by learned men; and there would be nothing more unjust, according to him who spoke [on the subject] of our faith, if the learned had more [authority], and if the ability to grasp the piety were not equally accessible to all who are of the same origin and of the same mind—whether one be of the shoemakers and diggers, or one of the sophists. ^D Secondly, I would say that the turn of necessity here presented itself as something violent and inescapable; yet I myself would have set great store—or rather, I would have set the whole matter—on speaking here, both providing for myself, that I might not be slandered by mockers, and at the same time for the more simple-minded, that they might not easily be deceived by the impious ringleaders of heresy. But now, since the matter appears to us to be a vain display, and [that] a great, useless, and idle dust of contention is being raised from it, I would have preferred, as has been said, to be silent rather than to speak—not as though I reject speaking as being useless by nature, but as it is for us useless at this present time, having unexpectedly taken upon ourselves this unseasonable time as a kind of stain, from wherever it might have fallen. For regarding things about which they propose a question that is not necessary, these do not at all demand a necessary response. For I hear that the great Basil, when he was asked by the Arians to explain the statement, "The Lord created me," refused [to do so] and professed as the cause of his silence that there was no necessity whatever for him to speak about such an utterance, especially since it was brought forward through parables and dark words and enigmas, so that the hearer might not conceive anything ambiguous from it. For this reason, then, I too wanted to remain silent here. And not only for the reasons I have just enumerated, but also on account of very many other things. For there are some who use clear speech, [while] others do not use it at all; and though they do not differ from us in their arguments, yet they seem to differ in their words and their peculiar expressions from those who are unlearned and who are pleased to bring the sacred Scriptures into controversy. And in one way do they understand who in such matters always desire to inquire too deeply and to speak by way of allegory; in another way [do they understand] those who endeavor to interpret and explain simply.

^A For those who have chosen only the words of the Gospel itself, without any striving, and to uncover, as far as possible, the sense exactly as it lies in the words, and to seek nothing further—these are one group. In another way [do they differ from] those impious ones who have now sprung up to the confusion of piety, who tear the one uncreated Godhead into infinite and diverse things, and at the same time boast that they see it with their sensible eyes and commune with it after their wine and Palamite intemperance—a thing which we have learned is impossible for anyone, whether man or angel, to see. In yet another way [do they differ from] those who follow along, those base and worthless women and little men [of that sort]. Thus it is that from this source the streams of doctrine flow forth multiple and varied, as if from a fountain, and one may truly think today of a Proteus who can often change into the various and different manners of men and their notions and the opinions that dissent among them.

^B XIV. Because of these things and similar ones, a love of deep silence held my soul, and I formed such thoughts as these within myself, fearing lest I might rashly cast my words into the air, that infinite and vacant element, only for them to vanish into nothingness immediately. But since the champions of piety who now surround us on all sides, and who cling most tenaciously to the faith, suppose it meet that we should use stronger arguments, and bring upon our plea a necessity gathered from all sides and possessing much strength; and since they add to this necessity vows that we should not neglect the study of discerning the truth, nor fail to protect the many from the danger of falling—some into the uttermost wickedness ^C of the Massalian heresy, others into the pits of the Actistitae and Anthropomorphites, and others into the chasms of other pestilent and monstrous heresies—I am forced, even against my will, to speak what I did not intend, fearing the condemnation of Him who hid the talent, insofar as I might be suppressing and unjustly harming good arguments, and preventing, by my silence, the good from appearing to many. Let the blame, however, turn upon the heads of those who constrained me to speak at an unseasonable time things which in themselves are fitting, but are not yet fitting either for the present condition of affairs or for the hearers. For we are persuaded that the prevailing vote lies in the opinion of the hearers, in such a way that the truth of those who speak often lies vanquished.

^D XV. In these matters, therefore, it would have been better, as we had sensed, to maintain silence, when the times of silence would willingly receive the force of what was to be said, and would not offer a necessary cause for speaking. For there is indeed a time for silence, but [only] when one encounters hearers who stand in need of silence; yet when one encounters those who are worthy and who truly desire it, then even that which is permissible passes clearly into the force of necessity, with the power of the permissible being cast aside, as it were, and devoured by necessity. For since our soul is immortal and contains the immortal necessities of what is done, and to the soul alone, the whole itself

^A awaiting the retribution for deeds clearly defined, and at the same time, since the whole world is not equivalent to a single soul, according to the divine Scripture, how should that which is contingent not also become necessary in this context? For if it is in our power, and it is contingent, to save it and establish it as a sponsor of eternal glory, and conversely to destroy it and send it to eternal punishment, then indeed this too would be among the most necessary things—not to leave passing by that which is natural to call necessary. For in as much as it is of the most absurd and irrational things to destroy, so much is it of the necessary things to save. Whatever, therefore, we have learned by hearing many times and by testing to be of the good things, these we judge once and for all to be of the necessary things. But to depart from these things—which, awaiting the retribution for things done, we judge once and for all ^B to be of the necessary things—what limit of absurdity would that not surpass? So that for those who have learned that it is better to choose the better things rather than the worse, it follows by necessity that they become better than themselves, and that they strive, as far as is possible, to adhere always as closely as possible to the immortal and truly necessary path, as I at least think. And I think that this is a very correct way to think. And thus, since there is a contingency and since the choice of good things lies within our power, the conclusion becomes necessary, which naturally returns in a very appropriate way to that point, and finding the timely moment in such matters, it is guided into the treasury of truth. But since the urgency of speaking today drives us to this, one must consider whom it is necessary to mention first and whom second, and what order every item of what follows should take.

OF THE SAME NICEPHORUS GREGORAS DOGMATIC DISCOURSE IV

NICEPHORI GREGORAE LIBER DOGMATICUS QUARTUS

^C I. First of all, says Gregoras, it is worth inquiring whether it is more fitting, according to the established dogmas of the Church, to worship one God, or one uncreated Divinity in the Trinity, as that great theologian Gregory says, God, one light, inaccessible and sempiternal and always shining in the Trinity; or many divinities and many lights, as the adversaries of our holy doctrine would have it. Indeed, I do not believe that anyone who has been raised in the holy doctrine could spontaneously fall into such madness as to imagine for himself and believe in more than one divinity; since the dogmas of the holy Fathers of the Church acclaim with one clear voice that God is one sempiternal and inaccessible light, and not truly many lights or any beyond the Trinity; then indeed the light reve-

^A ealing itself without any intermediary intervening; and that, conversely, there is one God, since there is one Divinity; and it is consistent to adore that one God, once one has first agreed that there is one Divinity, unless one wishes—being himself deaf of ear—to surrender himself as a mockery and a laughingstock to the derision of the whole marketplace.

^B II. If these things are granted, it is worth asking in the second place whether, passing over the common conception of God's Church, which is set like a lamp upon a mountain, it is permissible to say that this one and only increate Divinity can be seen. If this one light is that which is eternally shining, inaccessible, and unchanging—for this is the common dogma of the Church, and we have received it both from our God and Savior Jesus Christ and from his disciples, that it is impossible for anyone to see God except through symbols and bodily types. "For no one," says the Scripture, "has seen God, nor can anyone see him." The holy Paul, confirming this same point as the one who spoke it, says again: "If anyone preaches to you a gospel contrary to that which you have received, let him be anathema." But he himself says in these very words that the increate Divinity and the one light in three substances is to be adored, and that it is invisible not only to men but even to the angels themselves. ^C Who, then, would be so foolish and possessed of such madness that, when created things are invisible—I speak of angels, souls, and demons—he would dare to say to men that the nature of God, who created all things, is visible? Not only are those who harm the ancestral dogma of the Church and draw upon themselves the apostolic anathemas worthy of lamentation and tears, but it is also evident that they are involved in much rashness and madness, seeing that they claim every doctrine and every cognition is derived from our own reasoning. For in matters of this kind one must use testimonies for the conspicuous and plainer revelation of infinite things, which, from the very first stirrings of the senses in childhood, by consistent use, result in cognitions equal to immortal rules. ^D Then one must progress with alternating steps, gradually and by analogous additions and subtractions, concluding from the small differences that intervene; and so that the sun of knowledge might become clearer, since knowledge can be taught, it is work to demonstrate that there exists a reason, a proper and primitive perception of the senses. From this, as from a primary origin and fountain, all the streams of knowledge leap forth, and those things which are perceived, thought of, and known are the first notions and knowledge. For that we see and hear, and sometimes perceive sweet and bitter things by our sense of taste, at other times rough and smooth things by touch, and that fire is hot and burning and snow is cold—these are common notions and proper to the senses. For we are not taught by anyone to see and hear, or that fire burns, or that snow is cold, or that honey is sweet. For of its own accord the sense inclines toward some things and flees others, without any chosen geometric necessity or any other kind of argumen-

argumentation ^A of any sort, the Creator God having all-wisely pre-arranged and pre-posited these primordial roots for nature like seeds; a most excellent provision for all the scientific methods and demonstrations that follow, from which the most unassailable and most difficult to refute arguments of truth are brought to an end. For the principles of syllogisms must be self-taught and must possess their trustworthiness and irreproachability from themselves in every way, and logically derive what is conceded from all [premises], so that, as if from a firm and secure storehouse, it may be guided by the demonstrative voices and tongues of the wise, being moved as if under the sun and light, so that the nobility of truth may proceed to the conclusion appropriate to each.

III. But that what has been said might be clarified by three or four examples, let our great teacher, the beacon of the Church, Dionysius, be now set before us, he who from things familiar to the senses—which have their trustworthiness of themselves and are acknowledged by all—brings forth ^B arguments for what is sought. For desiring to show that God is everywhere in all places and in all things, as befits Him, he uses common notions that are manifest to all to clarify things that are placed above sense. "Just as in the center," he says, "all the lines of the circle come together in one union, and the center holds all those straight lines within itself in a unified way, both towards one another and towards the one principle from which they proceeded, so too from God and in God are all beings held together and encompassed in unity, even things opposite to each other." And again, "Just as one and the same voice is perceived by the ears of many as one, so also God, being one and indivisible, is participated in indivisibly by those things which are divided." And again, "Just as many impressions of one seal relate to the archetypal seal, and it appears whole and the same in each of the impressions, and in no part is it as something divided, so too do all things participate in God." And again, "Just as in the soul the powers of the whole body that provide for all things individually are unified, so too in God. ^C For it is not absurd," he says, "to ascend from dim images to the cause of all things, and with divine eyes to contemplate all things in the cause of all things, unified and in unity."

IV. Having said this, "See," says Gregoras, "how from those things which are perceived by the senses and are manifest, the invisible mind snatches up what is firm and easily ascends to the knowledge of divine things that are above sense; and how it descends from those things which in their own nature are indivisible to those which are perceived as discrete into parts, and then again returns from these to the indivisible, without departing from the mysteries of its own nature, and, at the same time, because it is accustomed to clothe itself in material activities and fulfill them economically, by turns and by what are called ^D roundabout complications and confusions, gathering them to itself, and

^A in like manner sowing its own light upon many things that lie under it, and as if showing one face to many mirrors lying in succession. And it formats the unmeasured and undefined ^B diffusion of matter according to its own boundaries and shapes of forms, and joins and combines them together. The inquiry that was previously moving round the inner reasonings of hidden and divine things, now departing from sensible things, follows the knowledge appropriate to the mind. ^C Hence, wishing to declare the divine and intellectual processions, the holy Fathers make use of a visible example, that of the sun's rays, which, having their etymology from "stretching out" (ἐκτείνεσθαι), indeed pour forth, yet they do not pour out, but stretch out to the surroundings according to the proportion of the spaciousness of those receiving them. For the divine Maximus ^D said that God is multiplied in the providence of the generation of beings by the wish concerning each one, yet He remains indivisibly one, just like the sun, which, while sending forth many rays, remains in unity. For when we look toward the projective power of the sun, we grasp the multitude of the rays as mono-faceted and unitary; but when we look toward the unmeasured and divisible variety of the generation of the world, we see the rays extending like certain working hands and, because of the deficiency of arithmetic science, splitting and dividing that unitary thing into an uncountable multitude. Thus indeed, in the case of the soul and its powers, we also make use of such examples, sometimes in the similar manner, sometimes in the opposite; for there being two organs for the eye of the soul, the mind, for the knowledge of sensible things—both sense-perception and reasoning—we see the science being always prepared for it from these, and coming together from an imperfect discord into a kindred concord. For while the one [way] introduces from without ^A the first principles by way of more all-encompassing uptake, out of the polyphony—which is amassed and constantly changing—of sensible things, the other [way] both receives representation and transfers it to the mind, the deeper laboratory of examination, and refines it there toward the concord and unity of experience. For to those for whom otherness is present, concord is clearly absent; but to those for whom it is not, to these also the things of concord are most easily implanted. ^B And he who understands the solar example well will immediately depart from the habit of sense-perception, and will have easily transferred the attendance of vision to the intellectual eyes, finding the saints to be the leaders of such a path, saying that there is an ecstasy in sensible things, but that for God, who is least of all things present everywhere and filling all things, and with no place left which could be conceived of as receiving the divine extension, such a thing does not exist. ^C V. For the words sound the same, but they do not have the same force of deduction and relation, but they are understood in one way concerning God, and in another way concerning men, by those who think as believers and pious people. ^D Again

^A “Human are the words,” says the divine Chrysostom, “but divine are the thoughts expressed through them.” Flee from the ambiguity of words, and hold fast to the things of the faith; do not seize upon words for the sake of calumny, but inquire into the whole and judge according to the words spoken. Do not be an odious judge, but a gentle fellow-contender. These things, then, spoken by the Golden-mouthed. We, however, are able to produce testimonies from other sources as well. For even divine Scripture itself admits that the things spoken concerning God and men do not have the same meaning. For it says: “As a father pities his children, so has the Lord pitied those who fear Him.” And the mercies of the Lord are infinitely greater than the paternal mercies of a man. And again: “Be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect.” But to attain to such perfection is utterly impossible for men. And again: “As the Father has sent me, I also send you.” But the manner of the mission is not the same for both; for He, being consubstantial with the Father, was sent like light from the sun, whereas these are sent as servants from a Master. And as the Apostle says: “Then I shall know, just as I have been known;” for it is entirely necessary that there be as great a difference between the knowledge of God and the knowledge of man, as there is between the nature of God and the nature of man.

^C

VI.

by all are cursed to perish ^A utterly and root and branch. Just as the divine apostle Peter does, indeed, teaching us not to wrest the divine Scriptures toward perverse wickedness, and adds these words: “As our beloved brother Paul also, according to the wisdom given to him, has written to you, as also in all his epistles, speaking in them of these things, in which are some things hard to be understood, which they that are unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do also the other Scriptures, unto their own destruction.”

VII. Look how such matters require men who are at once prudent and reasonable and in no way ill-fated ^B listeners—such as those who are accustomed to frequent the unlearned museum of ignorance and the smithies where neither the fruits of justice are gathered nor honest sweat is valued, but where, instead, the voices and tongues of wickedness cry out, and perverse and evil notions, conceived by each one’s own mind, pervert the precepts of the holy Fathers. This is what Palamas has dared to do among us, having willingly become a mercenary instrument of impiety, when he had succeeded in that well-constructed, so to speak, and subtle preface of dialectics, and Gregoras had, from the very first line, repressed those confessions of the Palamites by means of the divine and inescapable Scriptures, and was persuading them to confess that there is one uncreated divinity and one inaccessible and indivisible light—the blessed and tri-hypostatic essence alone—and that this is not only invisible, but also utterly superior to all mind and reason. ^C One must inquire, he said, from where and for what reason Palamas was moved to dogmatize that there is a second uncreated light, superior indeed to the angels, but far inferior to that blessed and divine essence; and then, whence and of what kind was the pretext he had for deriving from that light a multitude of uncreated and non-essential divinities, which are entirely different from the divine essence and of another kind! For I do not know what I should say. Either he has not heard what the holy Sixth Ecumenical Synod cried out in a clear voice to the contrary; or, if he heard, he did not grasp it; or, having grasped it, he judged it to be dissonant and not worthy of ^D any consideration whatsoever. For the holy Fathers who assembled that holy synod say: “We do not know three gods, nor do we acknowledge many gods or natures or essences or divinities, nor do we know those who follow such an opinion; but whoever understands or thinks or knows these things, we condemn with anathema.” To these arguments, that Palamite faction has brought forward such an objection: “This anathema of the Sixth Synod is of no value in such matters. For it is permitted to respond that we do not acknowledge and believe in a second divinity without reason, but precisely with sound reason. Now, if we can demonstrate that we rely on the authority of holy Scripture, then both facts will be made clear: that neither any reproach nor any anathema can fall upon us.” Nor does it [come] from anywhere else

than from the light which formerly, upon that mountain, appeared in connection with the body of the Lord, and about which the great theologian Gregory was also led to say that it shone forth in his form and revealed his divinity, laying bare him who was hidden in the flesh. And again: “The light that was revealed upon the mountain was indeed a radiance of the divinity, though [it was] of a slightly more dense and visible nature; for that which was then seen by the apostles, and now is constantly seen by those around Palamas—and indeed by others even before them, and those not a few—might from this be called, on the one hand, the invisible [part] of God, and on the other, the visible but uncreated [part]; and [we may call] the one inaccessible, the other accessible; the one superior, the other subordinate.” For it would be absurd to say that the divine [nature], leaving the heavenly realm, is present in its entirety to these earthly ones, who are, for the most part, filthy, foul-smelling, and defiled. Or how could the God who is Most High be said to descend from there and dwell among earthly and sinful men? But rather, his essence is the superior, uncreated divinity, which always dwells in the heavenly chambers, and for this reason remains altogether invisible and inaccessible; whereas its energies are the subordinate divinities, distinct from the essence, and on this account are immaterial, yet at the same time accessible and visible to us. ^B

VIII. To this, Gregoras says: “And how could one be more thoroughly refuted as fighting against himself and against the divinity—if I may use the words of this same Gregory concerning himself? For if one were to dig up and remove, as if moved by repentance, the very foundations which he had just laid for himself, leaning upon the common and pious tenets of the Church, does he not render himself a transgressor of the commandments, as the holy apostle says, and at the same time one who fights against himself and the divinity? For he himself is shown in his introductions to be teaching us that the one inaccessible light is that single, uncreated essence and divinity of the blessed Trinity. And by calling it inaccessible and invisible, he has declared it to be by much the more excellent; but all the lights that are subsequent to it are created. These would be countless others, as many as he himself mentions under the same name [of light] according to the extension of the term to several meanings in his discourse on baptism. Is this great teacher, therefore, not seen to be fighting against himself and the divinity?” Far from it. These are fabrications of a maddened mind and tongue against the saint, cunningly hidden under more virtuous pretenses. For after he has enumerated many lights, he says that one of the many is that light in which, he says, it was not shown, but rather “sub-shown,” that the divinity was then present. This preposition serves to restrain the audacity of those who so foolishly attempt to treat divine matters as a jest, as has been said by us in many other places, and will be explained more clearly in its proper place as we proceed. But let our gold-tongued John Chrysostom speak briefly in our defense, saying: ^D “It has often been said,” he declares, “that the divine nature is not revealed to us as it really is, but as our mortal nature, [limited] by eyes or ears, can accommodate it.”

the ear.” And so that you may not take offense that the holy and adorable nature appeared in the likeness of fire, he says: “And there appeared to them cloven tongues like as of fire,” and he interprets these new things by those which happened long ago through Moses. For Moses says, “And the appearance of the God of Israel on Mount Sinai was like a burning fire.” But observe, he says, how the wording here also coincides with and [agrees] with this new text; for he did not say “fire,” but “as fire.” And here, too, “tongues like as of fire” appeared. These are a few things that the Golden-Tongued [Chrysostom] selected from many, which we are recounting. Observe, moreover, how the addition of a brief expression corrects the boldness and audacity of the thought and restrains its unbridled nature, if any should be eager to leap beyond the defined boundaries out of ignorance or the perverse disposition of an evil mind. Therefore, even here, through that preposition which was added, a very great restraint of absurd notions has been achieved, and through this brief addition, the indication of the true meaning has acquired ^B both great weight and nobility, openly overthrowing the wordy immaturity of those who, having no shame, profane divine things with brutish thoughts. But if it should be someone’s desire to mock their [inconsistency] here—people who, while seeming to offer supreme honor to that Light, actually dishonor it beyond what is fitting, by mixing and blending it with opposites—[calling it] visible while it is uncreated, participant while it is inaccessible, divisible while it is immaterial, and other such things—I for my part will not disagree, nor would I willingly bear a grudge against anyone for this. But even as regards the contention that it remains beyond reproach, I would gladly concede this much on my own part; for these people, with a daring that one would not venture to provide even to creatures—namely, to demons and souls and angels (for the nature of all these is invisible, unless they sometimes appear in the manner appropriate to each through bodily symbols and types)—to these they gladly add their own [notions of] divinity, pushing in the uncreated and inaccessible [powers], and especially that light which we ^C mentioned above, which is distinct from all of them. For just as a display of cowardice brings a reproach upon both sides, both upon the one who does not want to die when he ought, and upon the one who wants to when he ought not, so too in divine honors, that which is excessive, where it is not appropriate, does not bring honor to God, but rather carries with it the charge of arrogance, as it is accompanied and steered by the pretext of piety. One would certainly have much need to avoid pushing the imitation even to the misanthropy of Novatus, who, pretending to honor virtue to an excessive degree, utterly destroyed the very foundations of God’s love for man, as he held the repentance of a sinner for naught; and since he relied entirely on caution as a useless excuse, he prepared great scandals for those who came after him. Wherefore it is a most evil thing to value anything beyond measure and to change the precepts of the Fathers. For it happens that the visible movements of the hands and tongue disagree with the hidden motions of the soul, and a certain repugnance and dissension is nourished between the individual ^D limbs, until time, applying the certain balance of justice, brings open reproach to light and shows those who hoped they would enjoy honor to be marked with ignominy. This is what those who introduced the Acacian heresy experienced. For these, [when preparing] to celebrate the body of Christ,

^A decided by their dogma that it was uncreated; and from this they introduced no small disease to the Church of Christ, and instead of honor, they have rendered dishonor; wherefore this specific heresy was named of the Actistians (increatists) and has been condemned by the pious. Similar things Gregory the Theologian also said to Eunomius: "You," he says, "attribute to the Father things above essence and nature, while you deprive the Son of these very same; to whom you assign a secondary honor and adoration; for although in word you grant him the same, in reality you circumcise the divinity, and you swerve from the equality of the name, which contains one and the same [thing], to that which does not embrace the same." And again elsewhere: "For God is not a creature, nor is the Master the same as the servant, even if he should appear first among the servants or creatures." ^B

IX. Do you see how to honor more than is fitting and to go beyond the just bounds produces the fruits of arrogance? For to those things which are added beyond measure, there comes a reproach due to the fact that other things have been removed, and thus in reality nothing is added, but it is rather a loss, since those things cut away from just honor become more conspicuous than those which have been added anew to it. Wherefore it must be feared lest we follow an excess in honoring which leads us into the ignominy of poverty. ^C But one of two things follows here: either such a device of evil counsel appears as if devised through fraud, or it must be called a disease born of the fear of demons and a fallacious image of the mind and proof of the total sloth of effeminate souls, from which arises a fear which they call akin to death: the kind which the shades of the underworld are said to send to the living in dreams. This fear is indeed contrary to atheism; yet in both the same madness appears. For it is a sign of madness both if one does not fear God at all, and if one fears where he ought not. For the former has no piety, while the latter, seized by excessive religion, believes God to be too severe even in the most minute matters. But for both, the evil is the same, even if the result that follows is different. ^D

X. But that I may present to you some examples more lucid and clear enough for anyone, I shall speak of one of those lights which are counted among the divine, and that light indeed which [people] think to be of the same quality even if different in brightness, above many others from the memory of men good and beloved of God, I name that great Moses, through whom God performed the greatest miracles in Egypt, and further, we hear that his own countenance shone with a divine light, so that, as the holy Apostle says, the children of Israel could not look upon his face

because of the splendor shed around it. For the holy Chrysostom says ^A that Moses wore a veil over his face at that time, for no one could endure the splendor of his countenance. You see, therefore, by the intuition of the eyes, that this light which shone upon the face of Moses was more solid. But Gregory also calls this light one among others, and likewise calls the light which shone on the face of Moses one among others, whereby his face was glorified. And having brought together many such things—differences in quality but not in nature—and having hymned the Creator from His works, he calls it an unceasing light and properly one; then he subordinates to the others also that light by which the Godhead was typologically manifested, which is clearer indeed in the quality of its radiance, but not different in nature from the others. But these things truly exist as limbs visible in the Godhead, by which all things ^B that seem to us loose and unlimited are connected and bound into one. For when that teacher enumerates the godheads, he does not call that light a godhead, but on the contrary, he says it is one of many lights enumerated, which was indeed more honored by God than all the others, so to speak, but which cannot be an uncreated godhead, but rather a typical and symbolic demonstration of the uncreated Godhead, as will be explained more clearly by us further on. Therefore, just as among many good and God-beloved prophets we have named one, Moses, honored by God above the others, both by the splendor of his countenance and by the miracles in Egypt, so that he seemed a god to Pharaoh, yet he is not uncreated: so also must one think concerning that light. For its attributes, glory, and splendor are certain qualities coming to the essence, and fortuitous forms which undergo variations and ^C changes; but the essence itself that lies beneath these suffers no affections at all, but is the foundation and substructure of them. Therefore, without that essence, there is no foundation for them, nor can it itself be changed in any way. But if, on account of ignorance and senselessness, some cannot mentally attain the logical concepts by means of which the holy Fathers composed their dogmatic books, what is that to the truth of the matter? Therefore, the precepts are not to be rejected because of them, but rather those very men are to be considered mentally impaired and unlearned, as our great teacher says. For it is very far from being the case ^D that it could preserve the boundaries of its own nature and everything else, and remain one in number in its essence, when it has a part in those things that are contrary, if it itself, which is the substance of insubstantial things, enters into fellowship with them, having departed from its own nature. For qualities around bodies are insubstantial and incorporeal, and therefore they are perceptible and have their substance and foundation around the bodies that are subject to sensory perception. But all things, says the holy Chrysostom, which are subject to the senses, cannot even be called the essence of angels, but a gross body, extended in three ways. Who, therefore, can say that that light, subject to the senses, is the uncreated Godhead?

^A And if you are silent out of perplexity, the divine interpreter John Damascene explains it, saying, “On Mount Tabor, Christ kindled light around His face like the sun, that He might, as God, show to the disciples the power of His own Godhead; but since He also made the face of Moses shine brightly from without in days of old, He now took the devil by means of this brightness which appeared sensibly even here.” Behold, he says that this, too, was a body, and subject to the senses, and that the face of Christ which shone at that time was seen. For the mystery of the incarnate dispensation was not a phantasm; but if it was a body, it was certainly a created essence. For the heresy of the Uncreated-ists ^B has been clearly convicted of wishing to exalt the Lord's flesh as uncreated; how, therefore, was the brightness that appeared visibly at that time uncreated? And who dares to preach these things, except the Iconoclasts later, and the Manichaeans and Massalians earlier, and now the Palamites? For do you not hear the saints most clearly saying that whatever falls under the senses is visible, but that which is uncreated is not only not visible, but even surpasses mind and reason? And what could this be—anything other than the light which is inaccessible and which alone is properly God? ^C Nevertheless, since we have examined those common notions, approved by all, with a certain rule and balance, so that, looking back at those earlier points, we might steer the subsequent operations and conclusions of our arguments, we must investigate how it is permitted clearly to pursue those things which are opposed to those common and approved sentiments. For the universe of things, since it is and is called Godhead, is also called light; therefore, if the one inaccessible and eternal light is God, and properly one and only uncreated, how and whence was a second uncreated light, different from the divine essence of Tabor, invented by the family of Palamas—a light which, out of those many lights gathered by Gregory the Theologian, is said to be one? ^D For that which is one out of many is not properly one; but that which is properly one is also eternal, and cannot be one out of many. For how could that which is uncreated refer, furthermore, to the number of other and diverse created things? Or how is that which is not [the same], the same as the essence? For if it is the same, it is not diverse; but if it is diverse, it is not the same: for they cannot be mixed by nature at all, nor ever united into one. Beside these, they have opposed another argument, since they felt they could not be freed from that condemnation brought upon them by the sixth ecumenical council. This objection proceeded thus: “Then neither do you grasp the great Dionysius, where he says: ‘When we have attained immortality and have arrived at the blessed peace like to Christ, we shall ever be with the Lord, as it is written, filled with the contemplation of His visible manifestation, which will surround us with magnificent splendor, just as it did the disciples in that divine transfiguration, and of that spiritual brightness,’”

^A

XI. To this, Gregoras replies: “And yet,” he says, “I see from many sources the destruction that inevitably follows upon your studies. For it would be necessary to understand what you have said before you even reach the end of your words. For, having abandoned that which serves to clarify the preceding discourse, you have brought forward only half of them. For we remember, says the divine Dionysius, that ‘now, indeed, in a manner proportioned to us, through sacred veils, the philanthropy of the oracles and hierarchical traditions covers the mental realities for the sensible, and the supersubstantial for those that are, and attributes forms and shapes to those that are without form and shape, and multiplies and expands the supernatural and formless simplicity by the variety of divisible symbols.’ Since these things are so, who in his right mind, and free from madness, would ever call those forms, shapes, and divisible symbols ‘uncreated’? And yet, the testimony of the divine Maximus, which interprets the present passage, will refute the madness that arises from the ignorance of those who say otherwise. For he says ^B that these things are spoken of God when He appears as light, and as an Ancient of Days in Daniel, and as a man wrestling with Jacob, and similar things; and of angels, when the Cherubim appear as beast-like, and others in the guise of men and youths. And again: ‘It must be noted that the divine body of the Lord is called a visible theophany, but that which is mental is that which is to be partaken of by the mind.’ Do you see how, when the entire text of the Scripture is laid out, the forms and shapes and these divisible and figurative symbols are clearly shown to be created things? Therefore, you did foolishly, first, in bringing forward only halved portions of the divine Scripture; and second, in keeping silent about the more timely words of Dionysius, and speaking of things that are future and not yet manifest. For that statement, ‘When we shall have become immortal and incorruptible’ and the rest, has not yet happened to you—unless you seem to be sleeping the sleep of Endymion, and have forgotten the departure from your fatherland that you have brought upon yourselves. Indeed, have you not heard the voice of the Apostle ^C saying: ‘And even we ourselves groan within ourselves, awaiting the adoption of sons, the redemption of our body. For by hope we were saved; but hope that is seen is not hope. For what a man sees, why does he also hope for it? But if we hope for what we do not see, we await it with patience.’ If, therefore, this is the light which you Palamites contend that you see, and it is the same as that future light which, as the divine Dionysius says, requires incorruptible bodies for its contemplation, then the mystery of death would be superfluous; and likewise redundant would be that which the divine Paul says: ‘This mortal must put on immortality, and this corruptible must put on incorruption, and in [this—] ^D

expectation that which is not seen; for ^A regarding the hope of those awaiting it, our adoption is to be placed after the dissolution of the body. For if, after corporeal agitation and the Palamite drunkenness and luxury, it were permitted to enjoy that future light, what need would there be of death, which brings with it an announced immortality and a life eternal and indissoluble, if it did not pertain to the future and to the hope after death, but rather to those things which luxuriate and revive in some manner through bodily desires, and which were to feel what lies within such promises? This, therefore, is one refutation of you, requiring no great length of words. Secondly, Dionysius speaks of a visible manifestation of God, but not of a visible uncreated godhead; yet the former are further distant from each other than the east is from the west. ^B For the holy and divine books have handed down to us visible and various and very numerous manifestations, as we shall later set forth at length; but as for an uncreated godhead, apart from the one, consubstantial, three-personed essence, no one to this day has ever found or uttered it, nor, let alone, has anyone, nourished in piety—except for the Palamite faction—dared to conceive of it in his mind.

XII. Concerning the meaning of the word "as"

XII. We have, therefore, brought forward these two refutations of your oppositions in a few words; there would also be a third, regarding the phrasing—I speak of the word "as," which is a monosyllable, yet homonymous and joined to many meanings. Most of these ought to be referred to the grammarians, for whom this is a more pressing concern; for us, it is sufficient to have recourse to the interpreters of the divine Scriptures here. For sometimes it has the force of confirming and amplifying the underlying concept, while at other times it signifies a similitude, or a reservation, and that which is not altogether ^C certain. Examples of these are at hand and present to the memory: of the one that is confirming and has the force of amplifying the underlying concept is: "We beheld His glory, glory as of the Only-Begotten from the Father," clearly hidden in the flesh, but manifested through miraculous works as the glory of the one who is in truth the Only-Begotten and proper Son and Word of God. Of the other: "His face shone as the sun." For here it took on the manner of a similitude, and it did not remain altogether certain, nor was it free from variation. Such is also the saying of the divine Dionysius brought forward in the present instance, where he says: "As the disciples at that most divine transfiguration," for the word signifies a likeness here and not an identity, and it cannot possess the same meaning without variation; for these things are neither of the same nature, nor of the same genus, nor of the same species. ^D For identity is of essence, while likeness is of quality; for where could there be a place for identity for those who have obtained conditions diametrically opposed to one another? For as regards those who have, and those who have not, finished their life bound by the tie of mortal life and body, there is no identity in the respect in which they differ. As such, the word "as" does not have the sense of identity here, but rather, shall I say, a semblance of some likeness. Indeed, even the divine Chrysostom, when interpreting that [phrase], "Shone as the sun," explains it:

^A "The glory of incorruptible bodies, he says, does not emit so much light as this corruptible body, nor is it such as can be perceived by mortal eyes, but it requires incorruptible and immortal eyes for its contemplation." Do you hear the great luminary of the Church, teaching—just as the other Fathers do—that the Lord did not receive an incorruptible body (for to say this is the heresy of Marcion), nor has He made and created it uncreated (for this is the madness of the Iconoclasts and Manichaeans)? Rather, the immutable nature, if I may speak with the divine poet, being mixed with mortality, in a manner wondrous and marvelous stripped away the light of the incorporeal Godhead for the apostles, and it shone forth, and again it laid bare the veiled rays of divine splendor. Do you see how all the teachers of the holy Church everywhere expose the veiled and enigmatic meaning through the preposition ^B by bodily and symbolic [means]? The great apostle Paul also bears witness to us, saying, "Now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face." Do you see how even he says that the visible manifestation of God is enigmatic and not without symbols and types? And one must hear what the evangelist John says here: "Beloved, now we are children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be; but we know that when He shall appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is." Do you hear how he who was present at the transfiguration of the Lord confesses clearly and plainly that it had not yet been fully revealed, but that it is foreshadowed in dark promises for a clearer manifestation in the future, face to face, after the mystery of the incarnation, when, namely, He is said to be seen by the worthy with the same flesh in which He rose, as it is written: "This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will so come in like manner as you saw Him going into heaven." And who and what kind of man is he who writes these things? He who, even before shedding off the mortal and ^C corruptible [part] of the flesh, dwelt in the greatest purity. But Palamas, in the midst of delicacies and drinking and luxury, contends that one sees with sensual eyes not the visible manifestation of God, but the uncreated Godhead, unknown even to the angels. What do you say to these things, you who plead his cause? Is he not to be wept over, and even more to be wept over are those who follow him as a leader? Is it not, therefore, a thing clearly unbearable, as the comic poet says in these words: "O unspeakable affair, by sun and earth, to serve a mad master!" If, however, anyone, led by ignorance, should say that that holy man is at one moment consistent with himself and at another time inconsistent, in that he said above: "We have seen," and "Our hands have touched Him," and "The Word of life has appeared to us," and "What we have seen we report to you," and whatever else he sets forth regarding the visible manifestation of the Lord in a more human way, and yet, a little further on, he seems to set forth other things—similar, however, to those in which he affirms for certain that "No one has ever seen God"—this person will not be refuting the ambiguity ^D of that holy man, but rather his own

^A weakness, in that he is unable to divide divine things in a manner worthy of God; nor does he see what, or in what manner, the saints pronounced differently regarding the visible manifestation of the Lord, or what they said regarding His uncreated and blessed nature—just as if, in the harmony of musical instruments, the one craftsman, God, inspires and causes to resound both the harmonic art and the power. But he will understand, I think—and even if he be very sluggish and simple-minded—if he listens more clearly and at length to Dionysius discussing these very matters: "For I think," he says, "that the theology—the prophets' theology, that is—hints at this: that the Supersubstantial One came forth from the hidden realm into our visual manifestation, having been substantified in a human way; yet He is hidden even after the manifestation, or, to speak more divinely, even in the manifestation itself. For this mystery of Jesus is hidden, and is expressed by no speech or intellect: nay, even while it is uttered, it remains a secret, and while it is understood, it remains unknown." And after a few words: "For, to sum it up, it was not the case that He was not man—yet He was not so as a mere man, but as one having been born of men, he truly surpassed men and became man beyond man; and He did not perform divine things as God, nor human things as man, but as God and man he lived among us, exhibiting a certain new, divine-human operation." And again: "In this, everyone who is deemed worthy to know and see God becomes truly such by the very fact of not seeing and not knowing, insofar as he passes into that which is beyond vision and knowledge." ^B Do you see the harmony of the teachers of piety? For what Paul said—that we now see in a riddle through a mirror, but in the future face to face—and what John also said, that it has not yet appeared what the Lord shall be to us, but that in the future, when the corruptible flesh has been cast off, He shall be seen by us: this same thing this man says, that the Lord, having been substantified in a human way, is hidden both in the manifestation and after the manifestation, and that the mystery concerning Him remains one that is called ineffable and is understood as unknown. For he says that He lived among us in a certain new, divine-human operation, and that He performed human acts in a way beyond man; and he points to the Virgin, who gives birth in a way beyond nature, and to the unstable water that upholds the weight of material and earthy feet and does not yield, but acts with a supernatural power to stand together without dispersing. And again: "If anyone, having seen God, has understood what he saw, he has not seen Him at all, but some of the things that exist in Him and are known; but He Himself, remaining above mind and substance, because He is wholly unknown and does not exist in a way that can be known, exists beyond substance and is known beyond mind; and that most perfect ignorance, in a good sense, is the knowledge of Him who is above all things that fall into cognition." ^C XIII. Therefore, the apostles, when they had seen that light on Mount Tabor, ^D saw neither the uncreated divinity nor God, but something of the things that exist in Him and are known. And those things that are and are known, if they be not

^A outside of the creatures, as one might judge, since they are spoken of in the plural (for God is one and beyond the things that are), and this is also as they are known—which brings the intellect down more toward that which is base and lowly. For even though the angels are indeed beings and creatures, they are not among the things that are known, seeing that their essence is superior to ours. Thus, if that light were of the things that are and are known and visible, it itself would not have been uncreated divinity; for divinity is forbidden and precluded from being seen in any way. For that which is situated above intellect and essence, how shall it fall under bodily eyes? How, or with what tongue, could it ever be expressed, or with what ears perceived, when its knowledge is the total unknowing ^B according to the better way, and it is superior to all that is known? For from things that are known, it is possible for things that are above intellect and sense to be grasped in some way, as one fantasy is gathered from another into one image of the truth. But otherwise, surely not. So, from whichever side one might be looking, he will find that the divinity shown through that light which appeared is a human contemplation of the symbolic and typical. For we do not say such things by conjecture and surmise, lest we be disbelieved; but the Evangelist, who interprets that divine transfiguration, says himself that Peter did not know what he was saying, because even those things which were happening in the manifestation of Christ who was transfigured exceeded his understanding. For Dionysius says that He [Jesus] was hidden even after the manifestation, or, to speak more divinely, even in the manifestation. This light ^C of Jesus is hidden, and although spoken of, it remains unspeakable; although thought of, it remains unknown. But that which remains unknown even to the angels, how could it be known by men? Furthermore, the interpreter of the Gospels, the golden-mouthed Chrysostom, says that the apostles were not yet initiated at that time, and were not yet able to attain such things, nor to see from the visible things that which is not naturally visible. Therefore, just as the tongues which were later seen as of fire, dividing themselves, were not uncreated spirits, but the one uncreated Holy Spirit was shown through them; so too, that light which appeared on Tabor was not uncreated, but the divinity shown through it. Whence, therefore, does the Palamite faction insist that the light is an uncreated and non-essential ^D divinity that can be seen, mixing the unmixable and attempting to hunt the wind with a net? And also, if the light of the sun is an essence according to John of Damascus and those who teach his science, yet that [Taboric] light was superior and better than the light of the sun, how and whence is it non-essential? And how is that which is by itself non-essential also visible? For if it is non-essential and yet visible, it would perhaps be a surface; and if a surface, it is entirely an accident: and if an accident, how is it God? For an accident is not only not God, but not even a being. So that he who worships that which is not, is unaware that he has become an atheist from being a polytheist; for it is not in an astonishing way that atheism is conjoined to polytheism, just as to the mediocracy of virtues by which one is led to intemperance

For impiety is attached to polytheism, just as vices are attached to excess and deficiency in the mean of the virtues. ^A Then, we hear from the Holy Scriptures that God appeared to Moses and to Manoah, and to others to whom it is said He was seen symbolically and typically, but not His divinity. For the name "God" is more common and public; for even righteous men are called gods, but not "divinities." For it has been observed that for the most part, Holy Scripture does not speak of "divinities" in the plural, but of one uncreated and trihypostatic nature, just as it is also one nature. And so this has been observed, and is always observed by the faithful, such that it says God was born of a Virgin, but does not speak of divinity in an indefinite manner. For divinity is conceived as being named within three persons; the Virgin brought forth the one person of the Word. From this it can be understood into what absurdities Palamas has fallen, led astray by his own ignorance and conceit. ^B He was ashamed to confess that he venerated many gods, but he himself venerated "divinities" and exhorted others to do so, and excluded those who did not follow him. This he shamelessly professed openly as if it were not an impious thing, and proclaimed it freely before the people.

XIV. If, therefore, he cannot understand that he is refuted by the entire Scripture, I pity the man for his folly; but if he does understand, yet for the sake of empty glory takes upon himself an evil defense of his malignity, I consider such madness worthy of every supplication; because, being afflicted with a disease, he does not desire remedies at all, but clearly and deliberately rejects and contemns the medicine. He acts like those poor men who, for the sake of an empty name, feigning to be rich, acquire for themselves greater poverty. ^C He is of the same number as those who are in the danger of diseases; yet he prefers to be sick while hiding the disease, and to continue a life similar to death. What could be more miserable than this?

BY THE SAME NICEPHORUS GREGORAS: DOGMATIC BOOK FIVE

1. Thus far, regarding the visible theophany of the Lord, we have seen that uncreated divinity is one thing, and theophany is another; and that the one is invisible, while the other is visible; ^D and that [the divinity] by that light on Mount Tabor...

it was indeed shown forth, yet was not revealed, and that it is impossible that not only the theandric energies—as they have occurred and do occur—but also the miracles performed through the saints, by which God Himself is laid bare and shown and, through them, is known to us in the way that is accessible, should not be laid bare. For I leave aside mentioning the heaven and the earth and all that is in the midst, concerning which Solomon also says that God is laid bare, to be marveled at, through their magnitude and beauty, even if the mystery concerning Him remains called ineffable and, even if it be conceived, is unknowable, as the divine Dionysius says; and [that we must hold] that one should not celebrate many uncreated divinities, lest one be subjected to the anathema of the holy and ^B Sixth Ecumenical Council, as has been set forth above concerning those who hold such views. Concerning these matters, then, and such things, I think that enough has been said briefly.

But if some, sparing not their tongue, should wish to dispute contentiously, and not hesitate to bring forward sayings of the saints as if they possessed an ambiguous meaning standing in the middle, and which are not entirely clear, let them bring them to those common notions of the divine Scripture which were proposed to us in the introduction as certain standards and rules and canons, having the self-evident and acknowledged truth on both sides, which, like certain steersmen and pilots of ships, observing the Bear and the pole, by skillfully governing and turning the course of the ships toward a sure navigation, guide them correctly. By this they may find salvation ^C just as, by looking to the rudder and the pole, they correct nautical errors, wisely steering and turning from the right and the left toward a single voyage; and to them the remedies will be found straightway.

C. In addition to these, they again brought forward a third objection: "But we also hear the divine Scripture saying," they say, "'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,' and again, 'Their angels daily see the face of God,' and elsewhere, 'God appeared to Abraham at the oak of Mamre,' and Isaiah says he saw the Lord sitting upon a throne high and lifted up. And again we hear the Mosaic history saying, 'The Lord spoke to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend.' And God Himself says plainly, 'Mouth to mouth I will speak ^D with him in appearance, and not in riddles.'"

D. To these Gregoras responded somewhat as follows: "If you wish to abide by those common notions of God's Church, that the uncreated divinity is one, as is confessed by all, which is also called essence and nature, and one light inaccessible and indivisible, ever-shining and tri-lucent, then there will be room among us for reason and discussion; for you place in your hopes that the truth will be found and wickedness removed. Otherwise, it is better to be silent. Since, therefore, you have agreed from the beginning with the common notions of the Church and her dogmas, you must accept what follows; if not, you are yourselves destroying your own foundation; and how will you endure others speaking? Or on what certain hopes will the interlocutor endure the labor of speaking? Since, therefore, it is a divine dogma and a common notion of the Church that no mortal has ever seen God, nor can anyone see...

^A either angel or man, if it be clearly evident from the testimonies of Scripture, no room for doubt should be allowed. But if it does not prove entirely easy for us, on account of the wrappings and obscurity of Scripture, sometimes shrouded as it were in darkness, and on account of the profane, according to the fashion by which we see divine Scripture often making use of it—for, as the great Basil says, Scripture often employs obscurity, rendering the sense of the dogmas difficult to understand for the benefit of those who read, and because of the imprudence of those who interpret it otherwise—yet concerning the firm and irrefutable common notions, not even the slightest doubt should arise; but all must alike understand, as the great Basil advises, that things which are thorny and difficult to understand in ^B divine dogmas ought not to be carried to profane ears. For God, as the divine Dionysius says, seems perfect to the profane, but infinite to the initiated; for the profane think they know, but they do not know; whereas the initiated do not think, but they possess knowledge. For humility is necessarily conjoined with ignorance. For knowledge, he states, is contrary to humility. For they do not strive to understand the magnitude of incomprehensible things from the deity, but they are taught that the Creator is to be understood from his works, just as the great Chrysostom shows, where he says: "That which cannot be grasped or comprehended by speech will not be for us an object of blame regarding our faith, but a subject of praise. For where reason is weak, and the expression fails, ^C understand the magnitude of thy Lord for this very reason, that His power is so great that we cannot accurately understand the reason for all those things which are contained by Him. This is true understanding, this is the mark of a sober mind."

IV. For God, because of His love for mankind, prudently assisting men as if they were infants from the beginning with more manifest things and such as are more accommodated to their grasp, leads them by a trodden path to a more perfect state. For to Moses, says the divine Chrysostom, the manifestation of God first began through light in the bush; then God speaks with him from a cloud. But when he had become more perfect and higher, he sees God in the storm. For he entered, he says, into the ^D darkness where God was; that is, he rightly understood that the divine things are obscure and unknown, and transcend all human knowledge. And elsewhere, where it is written: "He that sees me sees the Father," we are taught that we should not expect as already perfect ones to see God through the eyes, but to know that the vision of God is knowledge and intellectual apprehension, not bodily sense. There is nothing new, therefore, if to the disciples who were still imperfect, and who held weak and infirm hopes concerning Him, because they saw Him not as God but as man, He brought it about through the light appearing to them where He could not appear, that they might according to their capacity perceive by way and order of intelligence. For the divine majesty, as the divine Dionysius says, 444 by the mystical traditions of the oracles...

both fashions them with light and calls them life.

V. That God does not speak to men through bodily symbols and types alone, but that the angels also, being created beings, do so, has been stated, and we shall state it again now in brief. For the great Dionysius says straightaway that our illustrious Fathers contemplated God through the mediation of the heavenly powers. And theology clearly teaches that the sacred legislation of the Law came to us through angels, as the divine order of ranks commands that through the first the second things be led back to the Divine. To the Virgin also, an angel brought the divine mystery in human form and shape. And an angel of the Lord, he says, stood by the shepherds then, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them. And we hear that the word spoken through angels was made steadfast; for the book of the divine Dionysius has delivered the immaterial hierarchies ^B by varying them with material shapes and formative compositions. For it is not possible, he says, for the mind of our condition to be raised up to that immaterial imitation and contemplation of the heavenly hierarchies unless it makes use of the material guidance according to him. For the angels are, he says, ministering spirits, sent forth for service. And the Scripture says that angels ministered to Christ. And it is said that angels again strengthened Him as a man. And again, he says, "I could summon more than twelve legions of angels." And many such things, spoken in a bodily manner concerning the incorporeal powers that appear bodily, are brought forward in the divine and sacred books for a certain providential purpose; just as Dionysius calls them the formative images of the powers, describing them as having the shapes of men and beasts, ^C putting upon them the forms, I say, of lions and oxen and horses and eagles. I omit the various forms of stones and all the others, belts and rings and rods and axes, by which he teaches us to find the explanation of the images, such as he himself sets forth by way of interpretation. Therefore, when the Scripture says, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God," the holy Chrysostom interprets this vision as being through the mind. And as to that saying, "Their angels do always behold the face of God," he says that it has the same meaning; for it is impossible for men to see the Lord Himself, nor do the orders of angels dare to contemplate Him. And Paul makes this clear by saying, "He was manifested in the flesh, seen by angels"; for before the incarnation of the Lord, He was invisible even to the angels, ^D as the divine Chrysostom also said, that that which God is, neither the prophets nor the angels nor the archangels have seen. For even if angels also converse with men in the person of God, this is not unusual for the prophets, being men; for sometimes they add even themselves, saying, "Thus saith the Lord,"

or at other times simply speak of themselves. Nor is it anything new, nor far from the custom of Scripture; for even the royal decrees of governors in the cities, we receive as if spoken from the royal mouth itself, whilst the heralds shout them out. And the prophet, being a man, says as if from himself, "Hear, my people, and I will speak to you, Israel, and I will testify to you; I am the Lord your God." For he did not add, as in other places, "Thus saith the Lord," or "God said this and that." But the angel from the bush ^A says, "I am the God of Abraham and the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob." For it was said beforehand, "An angel of the Lord appeared to him."

VI. If, therefore, as I say with the holy Chrysostom, there is a gulf between the blind and the seeing as great as the difference between angels and men, how then, if angels are not able to behold or know the essence of God, could this be possible for men, who are not able to look upon, nay not even to conceive, the essence of the angels? For if, according to the same Chrysostom, an essence cannot conceive an essence superior to it, it would surely follow that men are far from being able to see the essence of angels, which is as superior to them as those who see are to the blind. Let not, therefore, your mind be troubled, so as to forget the common opinions of God's Church concerning those things which are spoken according to a certain idiomatic property of the Hebrew dialect; such as those we have just now brought forward and those which are similar, I mean: "The Lord spoke to Moses face to face, as if one should speak to his friend, mouth to mouth in form and not through riddles." ^B And again: "The mountain of Sinai smoked because God descended upon it in fire." And again: "The appearance of the glory of the Lord was like fire burning on the top of the mountain before the children of Israel." And ten thousand such things—which, being created, by no means befit the uncreated essence of God, yet for the educational economy of those who make use of them, are not at all useless, nor are they far from useful. I wish to call the words of the prophets, in form, a sensible conversation of God and the angels with men, appearing to them while they are awake. This indeed happened to Abraham, who at first did not see God as God, but received Him into his lodging as a man. And he was commended for the reverence with which he received Him. And after many others, later Manoah cried out that he was lost because he had seen God; for it is not, he says, fit for human capacity, much less for human nature, to see God, but only through the ^C riddles of dreams; for this is devoid of light and clarity, inasmuch as it affords one explanation after another implicated in a cloud of obscurity. Of this matter there are very many other upright witnesses, but also Daniel and Joseph, to whom nocturnal visions in sleep provided a true foreknowledge of things not yet come to pass. Concerning these both, that most wise theologian Gregory, being in doubt, confesses that he himself does not know, yet knows the God of the prophets—whether it was some daytime fantasy, or a true vision of the night, or an effigy of the ruling faculty appearing to them as present. Otherwise, no one has seen or professed to have seen the nature of God. Wherefore, since the common opinions of the divine Church are with firm ^D

and established resolve and are beyond doubt, it is also very easy for such persons to dogmatize that the nature of God alone is invisible and uncreated, both by resolve and by mind and hand, bringing it to the rule and standard there, by night and by day without ceasing, and all these things.

VII. For if Moses himself had been able to see the invisible essence of God, he would not have asked later with all his resolve and the eagerness of his whole soul, saying, "If I have found grace in your sight, O Lord, manifest yourself to me clearly, that I may see you, in order that I may have found grace in your sight," and again, "Show me your glory." For it is manifest that he wished to behold it bodily and to become a witness of the divine essence. But this was impossible; God is uncircumscribed and uncontained. "My face," he says, "shall not be seen by you; for no one," he says, "shall see my face, and live. But you shall see my back parts," whether ^B by this he denotes the reasons of existing things, and whatever that Gregory named as His tokens, or whether he denotes the appearance through the flesh, that is to say, the birth from the Virgin, concerning which the Apostle also says, "The saving grace of God has appeared to all men," meaning here an epiphany not like that of the prophets of old, but that which has occurred in this time through true flesh. For long ago, appearances occurred through bodily forms and typical images according to the capacity of those seeing. For this reason, the visions also appeared various and manifold; for indeed, "I," he says, "multiplied visions, and in the hands of the prophets I was assimilated." For if they had seen the very nature of God, says the Golden-Tongued, they would not have beheld it in different ways; for it is something simple and unformed and uncompounded. Furthermore, he says, "I was not seen, but I was assimilated"; for it is not another who is speaking, but God Himself concerning Himself; for a likeness holds an argument ^C of quality and not of nature—I mean of shape and color and whatever is naturally subject to the sight, and whatever to the hearing, I mean the manner of speech and the will. For indeed the mind of man, being incorporeal, is not subject to sense; but when it comes into speech and articulate words, then it is also subject to sense, and the form and manner of its own will is indicated, so to speak, in a shadowy and bodily way, but it has no capacity at all to indicate its nature; for this is impossible to bodily eyes. And if it is impossible to see the nature of the mind sensibly, how is it possible to see God? Whence God also has made the nature of created things double, as is also the human [nature], for whose sake those things were made, the formation being double, composed of the intelligible and the sensible; and properly subject to the ^D mind are the intelligible things, but to sense are all the things that appear. Of these, nothing is ever uncreated; for it has been said that nothing of the things subject to sense is incorporeal; and that which is not incorporeal, how could it be uncreated? For who is so devoid of sense and mind—as the angels and souls and such like, which are incorporeal yet created—that...

he would call those things uncreated which are subject to colors, and shapes, and sweetnesses, and bitternesses, and odors, and are judged by hearing, sight, and touch? What would be more unlike such a person than those who are mad or bereft of sense?

^B VIII. And in order that we may fortify our argument from the individual things that appear, let us observe that letters written with ink or another color are certainly subject to sight; yet there is also a meaning inlaid and hidden within that ink, which cannot in any way be made subject to sight. Nevertheless, since man consists of soul and body, and perceives the forms of the body precisely through corporal and sensual vision, he perceives the meanings contained in those letters through the mental and invisible eye of the soul. And likewise, from the beginning, men have apprehended the world—which consists of heaven and earth and all things in between—at times as a whole, at times in part, according to the power and nature that exists in each thing. The knowledge of all things whatsoever consists of these two: namely, sensual perception through the eyes, and the activity of the mind, which is excited invisibly by nature, but appears through letters and speech. This, which is also one in itself, is divided among many hearings, exercising a double power; for to those who have corporal hearing, it provides the corporal sound through the air, while to the invisible, intellectual faculty of the soul, it transmits the meaning that appears to it and is signified. ^C And thus, the apprehension of political and domestic affairs, and of all things in life that come into being and pass away, arises—as far as we are capable of understanding—through sense and mind: the one being sensual, the other invisible. On this account, the God Word became flesh, remaining what He was, intellectual and above mind, yet having taken on what He was not, and having become dual in nature in an incredible way, so that through the miracles that appear to the sense, He might uncover and show the Godhead that did not appear, and in this way might raise and direct those from the miracles that appear to the sense at a given time toward that spiritual and blessed life which is above sense. For from the magnitude and beauty of the miracles which have always appeared in the creatures from the beginning, the Creator is seen by a certain analogy. For, as that holy ^D Dionysius says, what pertains to the essence of God cannot be known at all, nor can God be perceived, but He is to be celebrated because of His works; wherefore baptism was for us a double grace, by water and Spirit together, so that through the water, which is accustomed to wash away the stains of our flesh, with the added divine Spirit, the soul might be washed invisibly and insensibly along with the body. That the Holy Spirit comes to the sacred water through the ceremony of prayers is shown to us by the holy Chrysostom, who, inquiring into the event, says: "Then the dove appeared over Christ, so that, as if by a finger, it might point out to those who were present and to John the Son of God, and that you might also learn that the Spirit descends upon you who have been baptized." But now there is no need for us to have a sensual vision, since faith suffices for all. For signs are not for the faithful, but for the unbelievers. Therefore, [a visible theophany...]

we do not have only one visible theophany, that is, the Transfiguration, nor are they restricted to a specific number; but in whatever ways God manifests Himself through the great miracles of symbols, one could rightly call all such theophanies visible. Maximus also signifies that the great Dionysius calls the divine body of Christ a visible theophany. For the birth according to the flesh was a visible theophany, as the great Gregory also says, speaking thus: “The present Theophany is the festival, that is, the Nativity; for both are said: it is called Theophany from appearing, and Nativity from being born.” Nor only this, but “The Invisible,” he says, “is seen, and the Beginningless has a beginning,” and as many things as follow, which are indeed more fearful than to call the incarnation of the Lord a visible theophany, yet they are in agreement with the evangelical words, “The Word was made flesh,” that state this. We do not, however, say that the Lord’s flesh is uncreated divinity because of this, but by adjusting our mind and tongue with the proper knowledge, we are led from the visible theophanies, according to our ability, to the conception of invisible things, and, as the divine Dionysius says, we are raised proportionally toward the simple and unified truth of intellectual visions. But the chanter also, hymning the incarnation of the Lord, says, “Christ, the Theophany of Thee, which happened out of compassion, when Isaiah saw the light, he cried out.” And simply, the miracles that have occurred and occur in all times, both ancient and new, could be called visible theophanies and sacred veils. The divine John of Damascus ^B will also declare concerning such things: “Since,” he says, “man is twofold and composed of soul and body, so also Christ became twofold, from the divinity He had and from the flesh He later assumed, so that there is one and the same hypostasis of the Lord, created and uncreated, visible and invisible. He grants, therefore, a twofold cleansing to the twofold man through water and Spirit. The Holy Spirit descended upon the Lord in bodily form as a dove; for visible things are symbols of those conceived by the mind. And we offer to God a twofold worship, chanting with both our mind and our bodily lips. And we are united to the Lord in a twofold manner, by participating in the mysteries and in the grace of the Spirit; for since it is the custom of men to eat bread and drink water and wine, God joined His divinity to these things, and made them His body and blood, so that through what is customary and natural we might attain to those things which are above nature.”

^D IX. But the divine Maximus, interpreting Dionysius, relates that Dionysius calls the ceremonies that are performed corporally in the dispensation of graces in the Church “veils,” that is, the rites of baptism, of holy communion, and the rest. And what need is there for more words here? For that great Gregory in theology said that the very Pasch of the Lord is a type, not only are all those things of the ancient prophets held by the divine Scriptures to be types and shadows of this,

but even this legal Pasch, I dare say, was a yet dimmer type of a type; a little later, it will be more perfect and purer, when the Word Himself drinks ^A it new with us in the kingdom of the Father, revealing and teaching what He has now indicated only in part.” Having, therefore, so great a cloud of unimpeachable witnesses surrounding us—men of such stature and such divine minds, teachers of God’s Church, and all of them without exception saying that all those divine wonders which are ever accomplished by means of lights are visible theophanies and not uncreated divinities—it is by no means right for us, by aligning ourselves with the vulgar opinion of the ignorant and the common crowd, to teach that an uncreated divinity lies underneath, and that the light which once appeared upon the face of the Lord on Mount Tabor is different from the divine essence, and to hold common cause with the Manichaeans and Messalians simply for the sake of a foolish and illicit Palamite persuasion, thinking nothing to be intelligible, but rather—in a manner entirely unintelligible—attributing everything to sense perception alone. For that impious Arius, in his blasphemy, called the Son and Word of God a creature and a subordinate god; but he did not come to such shamelessness and childish babbling as to call an insubstantial thing a ^B visible divinity; for it does not exist according to any knowledge, whether divine or human, nor is there any reason to call any existing thing an insubstantial visible light. Although he called God a creature, nevertheless he could not go on to call Him visible. For since he declared Him to be superior to the angelic essences, in no way—since they are invisible—could he have dogmatized that He was visible. But Palamas has dared to reason even from things which abhor reasoning, and has belched forth dark and inept things, not according to any poetic license from outsiders, but according to an ignorant Palamite arrogance. For never in the mind of any of the secular philosophers did such a monstrosity ever occur, nor has such foolishness of reasoning touched any of the barbarians even until today. It remains, therefore, for us who have arrived at this point, by detesting such things in silence, to run past ^C an argument that is maddening and full of impiety.

X. Concerning the fact that the One, blessed, and creative divinity of the three persons, which no one has seen or can see, is the one uncreated light, that all things after it are created, that the flesh of the Lord and the light which once shone around the face of the Lord on Mount Tabor on the holy mount are called a visible theophany to the saints, but not uncreated divinities, and that by them the one uncreated divinity was indicated, but not manifested as it is; and that this dogma is one of the Manichaeans and Messalians, and of none other among those who in earlier times have been leaders of heresies—namely, that the simple and uncreated divine essence, which even the angelic powers cannot behold, is visible to human eyes: this I have now set forth and will unfold more clearly as we proceed. The pestilence of this manifold heresy was conceived and pro- ^D

- ^A created by Manes, the first of the Manichaean leaders; the Massalians saw to its development, and the tyranny of the Iconoclasts later brought it into the light. The Palamite faction, which now prevails, has carried the flame of wickedness to the point of increasing it up to this present day, for the greater ruin of piety and of our heavenly lot, having joined forces with the power that has ruled for some time. I must therefore resume the thread of the narrative from there, so that the account of these matters may receive a much more perfect form. For, swept away by an excess of vehemence of spirit, I did not allow myself to pass over in silence those great and divine lights of the Church, Gregory and Dionysius. Therefore, I have pursued the account of this matter, although it requires a wider treatment, only briefly and as much as sufficed for the inspiration; and since I deem it right to defer further details for later, I return to my original path, having followed those teachers in such a way that I concede and commit this sort of profane insolence and loquacity of words to those who think that time should be spent upon them. For he says that a movement of the soul that is without reason burns too fiercely and is not sufficiently governed by knowledge and faith; for it is not of their nature to hold the rudders of knowledge.

XI. ^B It was my purpose and intention, for the cause I mentioned from the beginning, to provide a tongue—as far as possible—as a champion for that wise Theodore, a martyr for the truth, who is now being openly slandered by the Palamites, just as he was by the Iconoclasts in the past. Against them, he stood firm even unto death, surrendering his body to all manner of torments for Christ, and arming that philosophical and skillful tongue of his against their opposing doctrines. Armed with the weapons of his words, I also stand today, and I will stand against them; I shall not hesitate to renew his contests for the truth, inasmuch as they have come to me, against those who dare to renew that heresy today. Rather, like the more prudent physicians, I shall myself attempt, as far as I am able, to curb and restrain the wantonness and inconstancy of the opinion and language of my adversaries; just as they endeavor to defend the health of bodies ^C against harmful hazards, so I, so long as my tongue is strong with God and I see that I am able to prevail with the art of reasoning through my age, shall strive, lest the living vigor of religion die an unjust death, faster than some perhaps might think, from the pestilence of impiety increasing on all sides, like a flower in a field or a rose in a meadow.

XII. First, therefore, we must examine what transfiguration is, or rather, what figure is and what its genus is; for in this way what has been said can be better understood. For the word, being homonymous, has the same power in regard to God as concerns the essence, as has been ordained and handed down by the divine lights of the Church; yet, as regards sensible things, ^D figure is a certain outline looking toward the eyes, [which...]

^A and one may speak of the underlying animal as "well-formed" or "ill-formed." For it is an accident seen in a certain underlying subject, or form. And the class possessing this quality is found to be the fourth in the division. Since motion also, being itself an accident, is considered both in substance, in quantity, and in place, but is considered even more so in quality, producing the manifold variety of alteration—and they define "alteration" as being something that causes a departure from what was previously, while the substance remains—I would gladly ask Palamas and his followers what they think "transfiguration" is. For the word surely signifies nothing else but an alteration and change of form. If, then, one should say this refers to the divine substance, the argument proceeds to show it as the disease of the Manichaeans; and what could be more impious than calling the transfiguration of Christ on Mount Tabor a "metousiosis" [change of substance], thereby introducing one of two most absurd things? For it either deposes the unalterable nature of the divine substance into something inferior and different from it, or, out of ignorance and a malicious mind, it splits into the dichotomies of two uncreated deities that which is the only uncreated, indivisible, and simple one, calling one visible and the other invisible, one participable and the other imparticipable, and one subject and the other superposed? This has surpassed the very heresy of the Iconoclasts, as will be discussed more fully as the discourse proceeds. ^B But if one should say that the form of the servant was altogether changed, as the Iconoclasts say, into a light unspeakable and uncreated and a foreign deity—just as he discourses in his own words about the light and uses human phrases, such as that light boasting of itself and saying, "Do not be afraid, for I am with you," providing a pledge of the future light—it must be asked how the created has passed over to the uncreated, and that which has a beginning to that which is without beginning, and the temporal to the non-temporal, and the finite to the infinite. For we have heard and believed that this corruptible, as the divine Apostle says, will put on incorruption; but that the created should become uncreated, or the body incorporeal, no rational creature has ever said, heard, or even thought up to this present time. ^C Nor, again, does the uncreated and infinite in any way or by any means admit of any motion or change toward an inferior state, not having how it might be changed nor whither it might be moved. For a change toward the nature of the infinite, and a variation or distraction toward the movement of that which is not made, would be—which is impossible; for every nature, as the divine Maximus said, has perfection by its own definition [logos], both spiritual and corporeal, whether simple or composite. For those whose causes have received being and perfection with God, their own causes do not admit of decline or transubstantiation [change of substance] by way of addition or omission regarding being in so far as they touch upon the essence. If, however, a certain variation occurs, it is certainly not a change of the nature, but of the thing being varied; for a changed definition [logos] immediately brings about the destruction of the nature, whereas a change that follows has the appearance of a miraculous power. The water of the Egyptian Nile once changed its appearance and taste, and was altered into the color of blood and ^D filth, although it did not in the least destroy its liquid and fluid nature.

^A And that Babylonian furnace changed its consuming power for the sake of the holy children, for virtue does not easily admit corruption; however, the brightness and fiery character and the upward motion of its nature were not changed. For to the Babylonians it showed its natural burning power, as they had become naturally receptive to it on account of the material of their wickedness.

XIII. That the Palamite Consensus Agreement is Contrary to the Truth

XIII. And that the Babylonian furnace ^B simulated it. But let us bring into the middle the statements of the iconoclasts and compare them with those of Palamas, that we may show he clearly agreed with them, or rather surpassed them, by mixing, as was his wont, the basest things with the honorable; now I would have you hear. For after many other blasphemies of theirs, they also uttered these: "While the divine Word," they say, "was still living among men, seeking to grant to the chosen of his disciples a foretaste of the contemplation of his kingdom, he changed the form of a servant upon the mountain and was revealed above the nature of men, so that his face shone like the sun, and his garments like the light." But if his fleshly form then attained such power, since it was changed into the divinity that resided in it, what need is there to speak toward the resurrection and ascent into the heavens and the sitting at the right hand of the Father, since it is entirely, utterly changed into an unspeakable and inexplicable light? For it has been transmuted and adorned with the glory of immortality, ^C and it has become uncreated and incorruptible.

XIV. Have you heard of the wicked consensus of Palamas regarding the light on Tabor, that it was transformed from a created thing into the uncreated, and that it became a pledge of the future light? But you shall know the magnitude of this wickedness more accurately when you hear the accusations against it set forth by us, such as those which the learned protectors of the Church of God of that time, strenuously fighting both in words and deeds, wrote down and prepared as a commentary for us, who are joining with them in a most steadfast alliance of struggle. For they, ^D being illuminated by the divine Spirit, foreknew this revival of iconoclasm at the end of the ages, which Palamas travailed with and brought forth, and which the principalities and powers of the present age and of darkness at that time wickedly midwifed and nourished for the destruction of the ancestral dogmas of the Church of God. One of these, summoned to the field of battle at the present time, shall suffice to restore us who are laboring and at the same time to set forth amply and in short the whole of this spreading iniquity, to what point of absurdity it then veered, and to how great a degree Palamas has now advanced it, having taken the roots found from that former time and applied the more impure pretexts found of his own. For Theodorus, great in wisdom and great also in the virtue that was innate in him,

^A him, showed great zeal in the struggles against the Iconoclasts, as has been spoken of more fully in the beginning of these our discourses; having contributed above all others the greatest zeal for piety, and having withstood the tyrants who at that time raged against the holy icons, from whom he received the branding upon his face and from thence took the name Graptos (the Branded One), he adorned the Church of God with many other of his sacred books, but especially those which he published against the Iconoclasts, while perusing the writings of Eusebius, who at that time took the lead in discourse among the impious. In these books he discusses many things, and among them the following. He says that Eusebius mocks the ineffable and ^B inexplicable light, and asserts that the form of the servant was changed upon the mountain in a way befitting the God Word—a light which no eye has seen, and no ear has heard, and which has not entered into the heart of man. Such, then, is the discourse of Eusebius, and thus it stands, and the whole of his impiety hangs upon this point. But let us consider, as briefly as possible, to what point he directs the things of this new teaching and doctrine, and what the nature of the change is, and what the manner of that change might be. Everything that is changed is changed either essentially, which is considered in ^C terms of generation and corruption, or according to one of the things within it; and this in two ways: for it is either changed as to quantity, according to which augmentation and diminution are demonstrated, or as to quality, from which alteration is made manifest. If, then, it has been changed as to quality, it has been moved toward an alteration, which is a transfiguration of some character or a change in some one of the things pertaining to the subject matter, occurring either separately or inseparably. These things show that which is altered to be something different from what it was before, yet they do not cause the thing that is being altered to become something else; for it did not change essentially, but he has caused the same thing, from being such as it was, to become such as it is according to quality. This is not to be changed ^D wholly from out of whole; for the underlying subject remains, preserved in every way. But if, as to quantity, it received some augmentation or diminution, not even these make it something other than what it was from the beginning, but they have caused the same thing, from being so much, to become so much in size. Therefore, there is no change of form in this way at all. It remains, then, for us to say concerning change in itself, that is, that which is made essentially, by which it is necessary to pass from generation into corruption and from being into non-being. But he says, "He put off mortality and washed away corruption." Add, if you wish, that the visible also passes into the invisible, and that which is under time into the timeless, and the created into the uncreated, and whatever other such things are opposed to one another. But one shall not write of mortality nor of transfiguration in itself; for it will never be seen by itself without a body, since neither whiteness nor blackness could subsist without a substrate. The form and the face, not as this man thinks, has been changed into the nature of the Godhead. That this cannot happen has already been said before, and the truth itself testifies to this from an accurate treatment of the nature of things and the truth of doctrines, most truly and most firmly. But, he says, "He was transfigured and became immortal and incorruptible and uncreated." The transfigured and immortalized body either remained, or it did not remain. If it remained, the discourse of Eusebius is detected as vain and will be of no moment. But if it did not remain, it was not transfigured, nor did it receive immortality and incorruption, nor did it have that into which it might be transfigured. Nor was there that which might put on immortality, since there is no place in which these

^A appear. But it is absurd to think such things, or rather it is impossible. And again: "By the manner of the Transfiguration he made the servile form shine forth more than was fitting, and with a glory with which not even Christ was illumined, proceeding from the permutation, he says that both form and face are changed and permuted into deity," as his observations will explain more clearly in what follows. Indeed, he says through those things: "to lay aside mortality and wash away corruption and be transformed into the glory of God." But the great Apostle teaches that this corruptible must put on incorruption and this mortal must put on immortality. But that a body should put on incorporeality, or that what is created should become uncreated, or that what is circumscribed should be transferred into uncircumscribedness, has not been heard of even to this day. But the matter must be taken up, and one must ask what this light might be. For he, the noble one, has not yet clearly indicated what it is, except that he has added things befitting the divine Word, which will be spoken of more clearly later. Nevertheless, we direct our argument to the things he has laid down for the present. What, then, is it? Is it some essence and substance existing by itself and not needing another for its existence, or is it an incorporeal and non-essential quality, having its being in another, and not observed in itself? But if it is an essence, is it angelic, since an angel is also light, and a radiance and shining forth of the highest and most supreme light? But no one would say this. For it would not escape the book of books; innumerable witnesses are the sacred words, which report that God commanded and Moses was commanded, and the making of those Cherubim was commanded, even if he rejects the divine words. But if it is the divine essence, how did it arrive there? If it is perceived in its own existence and by itself, and as any other face is estimated and is apt for explaining the word, since no person of the Trinity has the same substance and nature, and the Trinity has been cleverly made a quaternity by him. It is apparent how Eusebius, greedy for glory, accumulates the divine essence with a profusion of persons, and increases that which may not be increased or diminished, and which admits no contraction or addition. But if it has been transfused and transubstantiated into the substance of the Word, it furthermore adds a benevolence to the substance of the Word, which is the same in the essence of the Father. Only in birth is it diverse by its proper property. Such things ^D received from his principles are inept and absurd, if he thinks that that ineffable light is the essence. It remains to ask, whether he called this quality incorporeal or non-essential, what does it pertain to? Is it a splendor drawn from some essence, into which that form has been changed? But nevertheless, it is the ultimate pride and absurdity of all to apply [such things] to a divine body. The word of essence could convey an insult, by which it would be induced as unsubstantial. Otherwise, it is not possible for a quality to be demonstrated by what it is, if the subject is removed, even if one calls it essential. That which is received into the part of an essence; to use an example, logic cannot stand without a subject, which is a living being, unless one has first proposed a vital and sentient essence.

^A

XV. That the transfiguration of the Savior upon the mount was considered by the ^B Iconomachs not as a variation of form into something more brilliant, but as a change of the saving body into an uncreated and incorruptible state; and that the light which appeared then was held to be the uncreated and insubstantial Godhead, occurring then upon the mount as a kind of beginning—in the manner of a pledge—of the uncreatedness and incorruptibility of man, and, after death and the ascension into heaven, becoming fully and by nature uncreated; and that this opinion regarding the transfiguration became for them the beginning and pretext of the Iconomach heresy—of all this you have heard, not from my own account, but from that of the great Father and teacher of the Church of God, whose reliability I believe not even the devil would dare to gainsay, lest he speak falsehoods—not only because he was highly famed for all learning, both secular and whatever pertains to our religion, but because he also perfected every virtue according to God, reaching the highest summit of it, such that he would easily abandon everything, not only things external to the body, but even the body itself, being led by love for God, and would willingly surrender it to dangers for the sake of religion, as we said above. ^C And that he also impiously refuted their tenets, as appeared from his learned and sound arguments, is clear; nor was I indeed held back by the fortunes that surrounded me from my friends, from collecting many of his books that had been stolen by them, from which I did not hesitate to seek many things before. Now, I shall bring forth more than what has been said, so that all may understand more clearly how great their irreligion is, and how ample the doctrine of that man, and how keen his zeal for religion.

XVI. Having become auditors of these things, they could not contradict them on the spot, nor did they have a store of scriptural proofs. Therefore, they fled to a second plan, and put forward that unlawful volume as a canon and law unto themselves, and had in their mouths the impious decrees of the priests and grammarians concerning the transfiguration of the Lord. To them Gregoras replied: "Does it not, then, finally occur to your minds that you are weaving greater snares against the new Palamite iconoclasm than those which you are now introducing, as we shall show below? For it is permitted to us, as we examine it, to understand that he mocks/deludes with things similar to his own, if one sees the roots and the first growth of his wickedness. It is no less permitted to grasp what addition he has made to the stock, by adding stock to stock and license to license. But if there be anything for a more perfect perception..."

still remaining, I, for my part, will take it up, he says, and even now will mourn my dead; I myself will weep bitterly over the breaking of my race, gathering and applying the remedies from the divine Scriptures, having also a difficulty ^A with these things that is not altogether unknown to you. And so I now proceed to the festival of the Transfiguration for your sake, in order to drive out with the lash of reason, more perfectly than before, the godless Palamas's base buffooneries from there, since he has also made the same feast a pretext for his own wickedness, having become himself dark regarding that light, according to the Iconoclasts, as we have said before, and having cast into his customary buffooneries and slanders both himself and—at the same time—all that most of the saints have said about him. Having corrupted and overturned the mind that was within, he is one who is perverse in mind and wits, and in all things utterly corrupt; he acts in a way similar to ^B night-ravens, night-owls, and owls. For just as those birds cannot at all perceive the eye of the world, I mean the sun, the lamp of the heavenly veil, due to the feebleness of their vision, and consider light as darkness and darkness as light, so also he, having the chords of his understanding broken and utterly sluggish, and walking through the darkness of ignorance, plunders and perverts the radiance of all Scripture toward his own darkness; since a night-owl, possessing eyes contrary to the light of truth, is not at all able to look toward it. I, for my part, mindful of the books of his wickedness from long ago, had occasionally given small rebukes for small matters; for to the man who had long before become an imitator of the heresy of the Iconoclasts, that light had become a stone of stumbling; and he himself soon spewed forth very dark ^C discourses inscribed "concerning the light," yet he provided us with a great deal of material to refute him in a balanced way, both at that time and at successive intervals of time, so that those things which I have narrated to you are but a few commentaries on that old wickedness.»

XVII. But come now, unrolling that unlawful volume, read to us his new blasphemies, as many and of such a kind as he has brought forth in this book also concerning the Transfiguration of the Lord, so that we may know both of them more accurately, and what manner of variation the age that transforms and changes all things has wrought, and to which part it has added him. For of the two conditions that hold sway in public life, he had once of his own accord given himself as a servant to the worse, and ^D gladly presented himself as a deserter from the better. But the age seems to have forgotten itself, since it more quickly perverted its own nature than Palamas’s impiety. For it is difficult for any man who has once fallen into the abyss of impiety to return to the better state. It was to be hoped that, if even for a brief time he had risen from the worse—whatever hope there was from the beginning—a return might finally be made to a state situated between the better and the worse, or by small and continuous movements made. For it is not the case that the difficult easily conspires into one with the deep, nor the white with the black, before it has reached the middle.

to the better state, gradually and frequently making movements toward conversion. For it is not easy to run immediately from the convex directly to the concave, nor, indeed, from black to white, in those things where it had become a nature to—before reaching the medium, in the former case [the medium] of the straight, and in the latter, that of the dusky hue. For thence, after a transition toward the better, which occurs by turns, one might perhaps arrive even at the level plain of virtue itself and its flowering meadows, with God vigorously assisting. One must therefore read what follows, so that our started path of discourse might not be left incomplete.

OF THE SAME NICEPHORUS GREGORAS: BYZANTINE HISTORY, BOOK XXXV; DOGMATIC BOOK VI

^B 474. 1. Upon these and similar points, having consulted that wicked volume, those who stood on the side of the adversaries brought these things forward. After these things, he says, it was sought by the saints that it be demonstrated that the light of the Transfiguration of the Lord is uncreated, and is not the essence of God; and all the scribes and high priests agreed. For there was brought forward Gregory, named for theology, ^C who wrote: "No one has stood in the substance and essence of the Lord, as it is written, or has seen or explained the nature of God." And the divine Maximus, writing in the seventh chapter of the first century of his theological works: "He who, not being participate-able by creatures according to essence, but willing to be participated in by those able to do so in another way, does not at all depart from that which is hidden according to essence." And the divine Chrysostom, writing on the same feast, says: "On the mountain," he says, "the Savior who was Transfigured, in a small way, as Master, showed to His own disciples the glory of His invisible and divine kingdom." That is to say, He slightly opened the divinity, not as much as it was, but as much as those who directed their bodily eyes were able to bear. And so all the saints call it an effulgence, and brilliance, and grace, and deification, and divinity shown forth a little more obscurely than the vision itself; and they called it the inaccessible light and the natural ray of the Son.

^A II. To these things Gregoras replies in this manner, saying: Behold even now Palamas, as you see, unites deification and divinity here with the light of the Transfiguration, and it must be one of two things: either the divinity of the Word is changed and cast down into a substratal and insubstantial light, or the form of the servant, as we have said, is changed into an uncreated light and a second, non-essential divinity. But let the discussion concerning this be put off by me for a short while. What surprises me, however, is how he promises one thing in the beginnings of the chapters of the Tome, and strives to demonstrate another, and how the sayings he brings forward in support of himself have yet another meaning; so that the confusion becomes triple and manifold to those who might be minded to turn their attention to it, and at the same time it serves as a proof of his ignorance and wickedness ^B—for he is like one composing riddles. Wherefore I decided it was necessary to look into whether Palamas might perhaps be trying to see if I would know that he is being facetious and saying things utterly contrary to himself, as if, in a counter-swearing, he were to turn and say outright, "What I propose and wish to say, these same things I do not wish to say, and those whom I forbid to agree with the heterodox, with these I openly agree, even while being as far removed from them in character as I surpass them in wickedness." For to the vanity that stirs toward ambition, I have certainly given no small addition in their blasphemies, so that in such a fashion I might acquire a famous name. For I have heard that not only right actions win fame, but also those things which surpass the wickedness of the glory of the wicked. ^C III. He is so unstable, insecure, and wandering from ignorance, that he can neither say what he thinks, nor think what he says; but rather, he appears to recoil from those with whom he shares his blasphemies, and yet to share with those from whom he recoils, so that he both slanders and follows them alike. And I do not know which of the impious he recoils from most of all, or to whom he is most favorable. For all that has been said by him is full of malice, and all that he has acknowledged teems with darkness. Yet concerning what is certain and uncertain, one would find nothing that he has either rejected or brought to any kind of clarity. Thus, in a new and monstrous way, the man has transformed himself. For in that he holds the same opinion as the Iconoclasts, he associates with them and loves them. But in that he fears lest he fall subject to the same anathemas ^D while still alive, he seems to change some things occasionally, yet not for the better, but for what is very much the worst by far. For what they impiously asserted—that the body is changed into uncreated light—this he himself agrees with; but what they thought regarding nature—that it has no essence—this he has dared to add, namely, that the light is a second, and inferior, and non-essential, and at same time uncreated divinity. So that in what he agrees with them, he in no way falls short of them. But in what they have not yet dared to utter, he has surpassed them by saying it himself. I would gladly wish to ask him if anyone could be capable of testing the opinions of the Iconoclasts without being an Icono-

^Aclast. For it would be similar as if someone were to come forward and claim that there are cithara-players, yet no cithara; heavenly stars, yet no heaven; and earthly things, yet no earth at all. What do you say, man? For you definitely give us to understand one of two things: either you are insane, or you think everyone else is insane. But this affliction is not ours, but yours. For if a drunken man thinks he sees two of everyone he meets instead of one, the cause of the error does not lie in the people being seen, but in the one who is seeing poorly; for those people were individually distinct and numbered one by one. For he had set out to demonstrate what he said was demanded of those priests and scribes; I mean, to bring forward into the midst the saints, who say that the light which appeared at the Transfiguration of the Lord is uncreated, but not the essence of God, but rather essential-less and insubstantial. Then, as if forgetting his own question, he passes over in silence that which was sought, and about which there is much dispute, and which is the pretext for the whole confusion of doctrines—a matter about which there was no doubt, and against which not even the devil himself, the father of all wickedness, would dare to offer objection—and instead, he eagerly hastens to bring forward supporting testimonies for it, so that he might appear to some to be saying something. For who, professing to live according to the faith, ever said or could ever say that he stood in the substance and essence of God, or saw or claimed to have seen His nature, ^B when he has heard all, not only the prophets but also our own teachers—to whom those to whom he is much closer have happened to be—saying many other things such as this: "If anyone has known God, or is thought to have known Him, he has known Him only insofar as He appeared more like light than anything else, since it is not illuminated in the same way." And that which surpasses it is considered perfect, not in truth, but when measured against the power of another.

IV. But ^C Palamas, intending to fight against the truth, since he can say nothing to the contrary and has no place to hide, immediately turns his eyes toward labyrinthine retreats, for he cannot perceive that he is being most manifestly defeated by the very state of affairs itself, being unable to offer anything plausible against those whom he provokes by injury. For when he says that he is silent about those things that no one ever asked—as if they were self-evident—and yet had promised to speak of things that no one forced him to, he is doing something similar as if someone were to come forward and profess that he will tell what a man is; then, when he begins to speak, he cannot say what a man is, but denies that all things that do not apply to a man are a man, such as an ox ^D and a horse, and a swan and a crow, and as many things as live a life of moisture in the sea. Next, he also brings forward brief words of the holy Maximus, but has not left even them uncorrupted, nor without that zeal he has for distortion. For how would a man cast off an affliction already inveterate and strengthened by the passage of time and transformed into nature itself? For with his unified reasoning distracted into two parts, and then...

having removed one segment, he has left the nature of the Word half-worked and imperfect on both sides, though whether from juvenile ignorance or from excessive fear of loss, I do not know. ^A Yet those very things which he has divided, when brought forward, will reveal the violence of the distraction, for the division itself has been extruded. For it stands thus: "He who is not participable by created things according to essence, but who wishes to be participated in by those capable of it in another way, does not at all depart from that which is hidden according to essence." At this point, having heard of that which is hidden according to essence, he thought it sufficient to search no further. For he judged it more advantageous to separate this from what follows, and to relegate that light which once appeared suddenly on Mount Tabor from the Savior Christ to an inessential status, separated and completely removed from that which is essentially hidden, so that, as if from the rampart of this holy Scripture, he might proclaim two uncreated divinities, distinct from one another. ^B

V. Do you not realize from this, oh you people, how Palamas is everywhere gripped by a similar malice? For either through ignorance he understands nothing of what is said, or if he does understand, he nevertheless perverts the meaning of the divine Maximus for the sake of his own wicked reasoning. For this holy man, regarding the mode of participation treated therein—the mode by which God wishes Himself to be known—shows that it is comprehensible to God alone, and unknown to all others. But Palamas, ^C calling this an "apparent virtue," perverts the saint’s meaning, deceitfully leading it where it is not permitted to go. Is it not the height of impudence, when he agrees in many other places with that Greek Proclus, who completely consents with Plato, as we have already demonstrated in our earlier refutations of his primary blasphemies, that he does not even now forget that notion of participation? For Proclus, using theological arguments, says that everything which participates is more imperfect than that which is participated in, and that which is participated in is more imperfect than that which cannot be participated in. For that which participates is imperfect because of its participation, but having reached perfection through participation, it is altogether inferior to the participated object, insofar as the participant is perfect; for that which was imperfect is imperfect in relation to that participated object which renders it perfect. That which is participated in with one thing and not with all, has obtained an essence subject to that which is universal and not to any one thing. For the former is more akin to the cause of all, the latter less akin. ^D Therefore, that which is incommunicable takes precedence over those things that are communicated, and those things that are communicated take precedence over those that participate.

VI. You see how that Proclus, a man addicted to idols, proposes three orders: to the first he assigns that which is incommunicable, perfect, and leading—that is, superior; to the second, that which participates and that which is participated in, being less perfect than the first, and a medium between the non-absolute and the absolute; and to the third, that which is imperfect, which participates but is not participated in. It must be seen, therefore, how in agreement with him

^A Palamas has dogmatized that Christ, who is twofold and composed of only two natures, I mean divinity and humanity, was transformed into a threefold being on Mount Tabor. For by interposing another middle, uncreated divinity—that light—he proclaimed it, according to Proclus, [Γ. α] to hold a place between the perfect and the imperfect, and to be both that which participates and that which is participated in. And as is his habit, to take advantage everywhere with wicked arts, he has here also added from his own imagination something visible to the uncreated and immaterial, matters which are truly incompatible. Nor is he ashamed to slander the most wise and divine Maximus, by producing him as a witness in support of his own childish babblings and blasphemous ravings. For neither did he understand what that same author says elsewhere, that God is raised up infinitely above all things that exist, both those that participate and those that are participated in. For if that participated light has the same rank as that which participates, and is infinitely subject in the same way to reason as the creatures are, then one of two things will follow: either it is a creature, like the things that participate in it, or all things that participate will necessarily be uncreated. For just as the doubles of the same thing are undoubtedly equal to one another, and likewise the halves of the same thing are equal to one another, then it follows that the infinitely sub-multiples of the same thing ^B must also be equal to one another, and of the same value and order with regard to being created and subjected. For all things that are infinitely surpassed by God are also infinitely subject to God, and hold the same place as the creatures. For with the same understanding, the great Basil says that things which in any matter are surpassed by the same measure are equal to one another.

VII. But enough of these matters. For you have heard the reason why he passed over the subsequent portions of the holy discourse in silence, and clearly wandered from his [Maximus'] opinion. For he wished to show Christ made threefold at Tabor, and to demonstrate that the light which then occurred around him was principal and eternal along with his divinity; so that, from that point on, there would be two uncreated divinities for Christ, and two consequently uncreated wills, and a third, his humanity. But when he heard the divine Maximus saying that what is made by the will of the Creator cannot ever be coeternal with the one who willed it to be, he divided it in a threefold and fourfold manner, and whichever part he could pervert with false arguments, he removed; the rest he left alone. ^C

VIII. These matters had this conclusion. It now remains to show what it means to "reveal the glory of the invisible divinity," from which root it came about formerly that Eusebius, that leader of the Iconoclasts, and now Palamas, the author of a similar wickedness, has ensnared the ears of simple men with many errors, since he himself held a view that was truly pernicious and compelled others to partake of it as well. For to whomsoever a twisted madness has captured the mind, just as formerly Pisistratus, that clever leader of speeches, was at one time master of the Athenian acropolis, ^D of his own right, he does not even in the least...

^A dream of concerning himself with anything, nor does he restrain the unbridled nature of his tongue out of any sense of shame, nor does he spare any of those whom he deceives, until he has cast down into the precipice suitable to him a very great number of people with himself. But for one who is in a healthy state and happens to use his mind, this man does not abandon himself to untimely reasonings; nor does he fall into error regarding the faith, out of fear of being deceived by the mere hearing of some word or other, expressed at times in a human manner, provided that he holds a conviction within his own conscience that accords with the truth; nor does he imagine that the uncreated divinity can ever be seen by bodily eyes or that it undergoes any change or mutation whatsoever. For if this were not so, nothing would prevent one from being always inclined toward impiety, and from being tossed and turned night and day, like an unballasted ship on the waters of a restless sea, swayed to and fro and driven and carried amiss by the blasts of all kinds of winds. For, according to the great Basil, if anyone applies his mind to the scriptures without discernment, he will eventually turn aside to Greek and Jewish fables and will grow old in poverty, completely lacking in concepts worthy of God. But for the man who has accurately understood Christ to be twofold and composite—on the one hand from divine things, and on the other from human things—explaining the joint concept—it is no great task to attribute the lofty things to the divinity and the lowly things to the humanity. And when he hears, "The Word became flesh," and again, "A few drops of divine blood healed the whole world," he will not suppose a change or variation of the divinity at all, nor, when he hears that the Son of God is man, will he perceive a natural origin from God for the downward birth. Indeed, even upon hearing of the transfiguration, he will not be deceived by the arguments of the Iconoclasts, so as to form the opinion of a change and transformation of flesh into uncreated divinity, or a transubstantiation of the divinity into a subordinate and unsubstantial and other non-existent divinity, according to Palamas. And if this is the case, much less will he be led to absurd opinions totally alien to religion, such as are abhorrent to the light of intelligence, when he hears of the glory of the divinity being "slightly disclosed" or "partially indicated," so that I am vehemently amazed at how and whence Palamas has so suddenly arrived at such blasphemies. For one cannot definitively say that such light of the divinity came to be—neither that which pertains to the "partially indicated" nor that which pertains to the "slightly disclosed." For had the preposition "sub" been left out, and the words "partially indicated" and "slightly disclosed" and those similar to them, he himself and the swarm of Iconoclasts would have had—if not a just cause—at least a semblance of such a heresy. But as it is, no reason remains; for the divine Fathers of the Church, having followed the rationale of expressions, themselves incline toward such most insolent sentiments of veneration and urge us ^D toward them. For the inventors of wisdom and science say, besides other things, that there is also a brief veneration in such words, for example, "almost" or "perhaps," and whatever various and diverse additions are applied to speeches. These are indeed brief additions to discourse, but they greatly mitigate a more grave and insolent sentiment, just as physicians administer medicines to the sick; and they are full of such words.

Indeed, the books of the saints are full of such things, as are the Attic ^A works, and all the channels of discourse which flow through the tongues of men at every time and in every place. For the expression, "The present time, O Athenians," as if it were uttering a voice, belongs to Demosthenes; and again that, "As if to reject a bitter message," belongs to Plato; and phrases such as, "I would almost say," and others similar, in a way constrain a stronger sentiment, so that the time might not be thought of as a speaking animal, nor the discourse be thought to reek literally of brine. And that we may leave behind these more remote matters and return to the path we have begun, the divine Fathers maintained the same opinion and doctrine, and in that feast they were entirely cautious not to say openly and plainly that the uncreated divinity is seen by human eyes. Nor could anyone, whether wise or foolish, exhibit at any time, either ^B writing or book, whether sacred or profane, or composed with prudence or foolishly, filled with such impiety up to this time. For how could they, since they know that our soul is invisible, as is the angelic nature and whatever is not a body within a body? For if, as the divine Chrysostom says, the saints who have been made partakers of the divine Holy Spirit—just as the man of desires [Daniel] who saw the presence of the angel, not the essence itself (for it is in no way permitted to see an incorporeal essence), but a concrete power—nearly lost his very soul, and such a great and illustrious man lay as though senseless, who is there, even if he be exceedingly foolish, who would dare to blaspheme? Therefore, the divine Fathers and teachers of the Church were not at all accustomed to think or ^C to utter such things openly and undisguisedly. But as for that which they said according to a certain divine economy, they brought it forth by curbing it in a certain way and serving it with a brief addition, employing an unusual expression, so that, with our mind being removed from the absolute notion and signification, they might describe it with certain finite boundaries by means of this brief addition of the preposition. But that we may distinguish our discourse with other arguments, that poet is immediately at hand for me, who says: "You long ago showed the signs of your burial by multiplying visions." Or rather, let those things which Gregory the Theologian discoursed about concerning Pascha be brought forward: "When," he says, "He shall drink it new with you in the kingdom of the Father, revealing and teaching what He has now indicated imperfectly." ^D

IX. Do you see how the preposition removes the absolute notion of the truth, but introduces a shadowed and imperfect one? And again, the Ark of the Testimony is renewed with great magnificence, which God showed, and Moses constructed, and Bezalel left completed, in a typical manner, and by no means according to the truth. "See, for He says, that you make all things according to "

^A the pattern shown to you on the mountain." And angels too, the divine Chrysostom says, appearing before men, opened up the light shining from their own nature; for the preposition *sub-* [under] indicates a certain restrictive manner of speaking in these and similar locutions, as if intending to express symbolically the truth hidden behind a veil. Therefore, when we hear that the deity was "shown" or "opened up" [sub-monstratam / sub-apertam], we do not think that the uncreated essence itself was immediately revealed; rather, through the preposition *sub-*, we more easily soften such a notion and thus restrain the impropriety of the daring claim. These things are for softening, not for explaining the thought itself. Just as the divine Chrysostom, in interpreting that passage, "I have multiplied visions, and have been made like the hands of the prophets; He descended, and I did not appear as what I was." For He says, since His Son was about to appear to us through the flesh, He trained their eyes from on high to see the essence of God as much as they were able. And again: "God," he says, "clothed Himself in flesh, lest by revealing the naked deity He should destroy everyone, since no one is able to bear the assault of that inaccessible light." ^B

I. The divine Maximus also discusses these same things: "We do not know God from His essence," he says, "but from the magnificence of created things; for through these, as through mirrors, we comprehend His infinite goodness, wisdom, and power." Do you see how we must necessarily be persuaded that, as through a mirror of accommodation [συγκαταβάσει], the God-man Word utilized the mountain to be "shown underneath" [sub-monstratum] indeed, yet not "shown" [monstratum], and to have "partially opened" [sub-aperuisse] the essence of the uncreated deity, and not to have made some other unsubstantial, visible, uncreated, and subject deity, as is the opinion of the impious? For the transfiguration was a change of human form, and not a permutation of the immutable deity, as the divine poet Cosmas says: "You enlightened the human nature, once obscured, and by the variation of your form you showed God." ^C If anything further must be added regarding this matter, the divine Chrysostom discusses it: "Let us journey," he says, "in our discourse to the mountain where Christ was transfigured. Let us see Him shining as He shone. And yet, not even thus did He show us all the brilliance of the coming age. For that what appeared was an accommodation, and not an exact manifestation of the thing, is clear from the very words of the Gospel. For what," he says, "shone like the sun? The glory of incorruptible bodies does not emit so much light as this corruptible body, nor is it of such a kind as is capable of being beheld by human eyes, but rather it has need of incorruptible and immortal eyes for its contemplation." Do you hear? For He did not take an incorruptible body from the Virgin (this is the opinion of the heresy of Marcion), nor did the divine Word render it uncreated and ^D make it so as it shone. Yet it did not thus show us all the glory of the future time. For it is apparent from the very words of the Gospel that what appeared was a mitigation, and not an accurate revelation of the reality. For why, he says, did it shine as the sun? The glory of incorruptible bodies does not emit so much light as this corruptible body, nor of such a kind as is permissible for human eyes to be, but there is need of incorruptible and immortal eyes for its contemplation. Do you hear? For He did not take an incorruptible body from the Virgin. This is the opinion of Marcion's heresy. Nor did the divine Word render that [body] uncreated and create it. This is the heresy of the Iconoclasts. But the immutable nature, as the divine poet says, when mixed with mortal [flesh], the light of the incorporeal deity...

breaking forth, shone ineffably upon the apostles, and again revealed ^B its obscure divine features. You see how everywhere all the teachers of the pious Church manifest the obscure and not entirely direct [revelation] through the addition of the preposition. If, therefore, all the disciples of the Palamite faction should come together, let them show where in Scripture it is found that any of all the saints says that another uncreated, non-essential, and subject-deity appeared at that time. But not even by laboring much could they ever be able to show as divided into either a subject or a superject that one indivisible and uncreated essence and deity. ^C But the divine Maximus says that that light is both a symbol and an image and a representation. "I think," he says, "for [there are] altogether two methods of theology mysteriously teaching the divinely-fitting representations on the mount at the Transfiguration: the one I call the primary, simple, and causeless; and the one following this, composite, and magnificently describing [God] from caused things by way of affirmation." And again: "Let us see if the symbol of the Lord's divine transfiguration does not contain both of the aforementioned methods excellently and wisely. For it was necessary, on account of His incredible love for mankind, for the Uncreated to become an image and symbol among us, and to manifest Himself symbolically of Himself, and through Himself being apparent, to guide the whole of creation to Himself, while He is entirely hidden." And again: ^D "Since the uncreated is not capable of being contained by the created, nor is the infinite to be encompassed by the finite." And again: "They taught that the all-blessed splendor shining forth like a ray from His face, as one surpassing every power of the eyes, was a symbol of His deity, which is above mind, sense, essence, and knowledge; and that the garments, which became white, bore the symbol of the words of holy Scripture, which then became clear, evident, and manifest to them, and were understood without the entanglement of riddles and symbolic shadowing, and revealed the word that was hidden among them, when they attained the perfect and correct knowledge of God." And again: "I said, therefore, above, that by the light-like brightness of the Lord's face which occurred on the mount, the three-blessed apostles were guided in a mystical manner to the power and glory of God, which is incomprehensible to all creatures whatsoever, in an ineffable and unknowable way, understanding the light that appeared to them above sense to be a symbol of His invisible hiddenness." You see how he too speaks of the light appearing then on Tabor not as another uncreated, insubstantial deity, but as a representation and symbol of the invisible, uncreated divine essence of the God-Man Word, and as a manifestation, not as the [full] revelation? For the uncreated cannot be seen by the created, nor the infinite by the finite. The great light of the Church, Cyril, explains this even more clearly: "For we consider the Transfiguration of the Lord to have occurred, not by putting aside the form of the human body, but by the brightness as of light surrounding the whole body, as far as the form is concerned. His face was imbued with the color of light." Therefore, if

^A according to the writings of the saints that light too was a type and symbol of the uncreated divinity, it was other than that [divinity] and was not that [divinity], nor was it an uncreated divinity, that is to say, essence. For just as according to Gregory of Nyssa that which is other than power is not power, so also that which is other than the one uncreated essence is not an uncreated divinity. For if it is another [thing], it is both uncreated and without essence and without subsistence. It is therefore non-existent, and such worship is clear atheism. Thus, from the Palamite polytheism, this new, non-essential, and insubstantial Palamite divinity draws the simpler-minded into the Palamite abyss of atheism.

And so that you may know an even more perfect teaching concerning that light, hear once again the golden-tongued John. For in his oration given on the Resurrection of the Savior, he sets forth these things: "Wonder, he says, and trembling and murmuring arose among the Apostles. For being mortal by nature, and unaccustomed to such visions, they were beside themselves in their minds. But someone will say that Peter and James and John had previously known the Transfiguration. They had indeed previously seen the Lord glorified and overshadowed by a cloud; but they did not see the cloud snatched up into the air and taken up into heaven with the Master. That was a miracle, and this is a miracle; but this is more terrible and higher than that miracle, even if the power and mystery of one God underlay both. Then Moses and Elias were seen by those who were with Peter, speaking with Him; but now a Cherubic throne, that is to say, an invisible power enveloped in thick cloud, suddenly appeared and snatched away the Master who was speaking with His servants. Then Peter with free speech answered: 'Lord, it is good for us to be here; let us make three tabernacles, one for You, and one for Moses, and one for Elias.' ^B But now not one of the disciples could even speak, nor open his mouth, but overwhelmed by great fear they were beside themselves."

XI. Here, even if someone be possessed by envy and full of extreme naivety, I nevertheless think that all will share my opinion, so that with recklessness and contention removed, there is no longer need for a greater and more manifest argument to demonstrate that that light in Tabor is also to be reckoned among the miracles of Christ. However, since two great miracles of Christ were shown there, it was necessary for Palamas either to claim latreutic adoration for his two uncreated divinities, so that the manifestation of his wickedness might be greater and more evident, or for the other, the greater and higher one. But if no one who has been nurtured in religion and endowed with sound and good learning has ever attempted to entertain such a thought, is it fair to incline the mind toward those Iconoclasts and this new Palamite race, who dare to speak all the worst things with impunity? ^D

^A For there are those who with impunity dare to utter all the worst things, and, most of all, to attribute divine worship to the light of the miracle at Tabor, and to consider it an insubstantial, subordinate, and non-subsistent divinity. For Palamas will find me an enemy in this matter, and that with all my tongue and in whole books always, even if he does not wish it, and remaining silent not even if he should wish it. It would require much barbaric ignorance, and much no less than Hellenic polytheism, for anyone to be concerned with worshipping all those things that occur through lights as miracles. For that uncreated essence of the Savior is not even a body, so that one part might appear and another might not; for how could it, being an indivisible power and strictly one, entirely superior to any number? For it has not generated a duality by any division, nor has any number divided it; but being one by nature and always a monad, it has remained forever monadic, immutable, and invisible. For the divine Chrysostom also says that if the prophets had seen the very nature of God, they would not have contemplated it in varied ways; for it is something simple, insubstantial, uncompounded, ineffable, and always remained the ^B same, but it showed the invisible glory of the divine kingdom. Therefore, that of uncovering does not have greater force than that of showing. For it brings an explanation of an obscure thing; but to show is a mode of speech clearly necessary even in apparent things, just as if someone were to show only the box when pearls are enclosed in it, he does not uncover that which is sought—as the great Chrysostom also teaches, saying that Jesus did not go up into the boat, wishing to work a greater miracle and at the same time to uncover His divinity to them more clearly.

XII. It is worth noting how, of the two miracles treated there—one showing and the other uncovering the divinity—the former is of a lower order, and this latter, which uncovers, is higher. Palamas vindicates worship for this lower one, but not even the slightest amount for the higher one. It is ridiculous for the lower to have the honor of the highest power, and the higher not even the honor of the lower; ^C and to attribute to both things that cannot stand together, such as that which is greatest to one, and to the other in no way, and where the power is not equal on the scales, to attribute to the latter an entirely equal weight, but to consider that which has a much greater weight of gravity to be far inferior to the other. If indeed that thing is of such simplicity that it has surpassed all simplicity, which is so far from being one with the revelation that it does not even approach it, how can one vindicate for it the honor of uncreated divinity? For how can anything of those things that appear in a sensible form and are subject to the senses ever be an uncreated divinity? Seeing that not even the nature of incorporeal angels can fall within human eyes, as has been demonstrated ^D above and below, and can be learned by every human mind. The great teacher, Chrysostom, will explain to us again that not only was that light not an uncreated and insubstantial divinity, but not even incorporeal. He speaks roughly thus: "If the Savior [had this] in a more bodily way..."

then it showed light, [but] it did not have a great desire for the thing." And again: "If Peter, seeing a dim image of future things, said, 'It is good for us to be here,' what might one say when the very truth of the things arrives?" And again: "We have beheld," he says, "his glory," which we would not have beheld had it not appeared to us through the associated body. And again, "If we desire, we also shall behold Christ, not as the apostles did then, but much more brilliantly; for he will not come like this hereafter." ^A

XIII. If, therefore, Christ showed that light brilliantly on the mountain, he will show it more brilliantly to the holy men in the future; it is necessary to believe Chrysostom, who clearly urges that that light was more bodily, and a dim image of the truth, and not the truth itself. If these things are so, it consequently follows that this subject and inessential divinity of Palamas must be exchanged for one more brilliant and surpassing, and that the uncreated becomes more uncreated, the inessential more inessential, and at the same time the visible more visible, if there is any need at all to judge such things or to explain them in words. ῝^B

However, it must be further observed why he who fashions something for himself does not know; he who does not know, mocks; and he who mocks, deceives many. For it is much more fitting for us to investigate such things than to [follow] that Socrates, son of Sophroniscus, who, seeking who among the Athenians might be wiser than himself, went around to judges, and rhetoricians, and tragic and dithyrambic poets, and besides these, to craftsmen of every kind, that the truth might be clearly apprehended from them. Those, therefore, who have entered upon the rational way of life in word and deed say that the beginning of error is the arrogance of the mind, by which the soul is led to circumscribe the divine with forms and figures. ^C And again: "Blessed is the mind which, at the time of prayer, abstracts itself from every form." And again: "Do not seek at all to receive any form or figure or body at the time of prayer." And again: "Do not desire to see angels, or powers, or Christ sensibly, lest you become completely demented, having received a wolf for a shepherd and having surrendered to vile demons through your veneration." For whatever appears to the mind under a form, whether as light or as fire, comes about through the malice of the enemy, as divine Paul clearly teaches, saying that he transforms himself into an angel of light. It is not necessary, therefore, for anyone to pursue the ascetic life on such a hope, lest Satan find the soul ready for plunder. And what need is there to unroll more books of holy men here, as many as have adorned their own lives with wisdom and the laws of asceticism, all of whom possess prudence, when it is possible to be satisfied with only those who have been set before us for our present need? For that the formations and shapes appearing occasionally to the saints are accomplished through the angels of God, I think has been sufficiently demonstrated; for it is not possible for the divinity itself ever to appear directly. ^D

OF THE SAME NICEPHORUS GREGORAS ROMAN HISTORY BOOK XXXVI

^A 1. When I began this history, I had proposed to myself to hand down to posterity an account and explanation of public affairs; but just as a fierce wind, descending from northern regions before we can notice it or attempt to resist it, suddenly bursts forth and disturbs the tranquillity of the spirit, bringing down tempests and billows upon the Church of God. Therefore, since I had once begun to describe whatever shipwrecks had happened to the very foundations of the Church, it was necessary to join to the series of this history, and to set forth beforehand, who they were, and how, and to what extent, and with what zeal they had persevered in the billows of those tempests, and what the causes had been, as will be taught. Of those things which are connected among themselves, and which can never be broken away from their common nexus, we have rendered the history diverse and manifold instead of simple and plain. For, contrary to my expectation and to the resolve I had from the beginning, it happened to us, as if in mid-journey, that we were compelled to institute and interject many digressions and repetitions of discourse, and to employ very many supports, warnings, and varied circumlocutions, sometimes from afar, sometimes from near at hand. Therefore, when we have arrived at such a necessity, it must be discerned how things are to be set forth in a diverse manner. For as the things which are treated by men, who make use of both soul and body, are directed by nature, laws, and customs, it is ^B necessary that lives become diverse, on account of the diversity of those who treat them and the things treated, and of those which direct and are directed, as has been said: and in reverse order, things which occur over long [intervals], things over shorter spans of time, things which have attained a modest worth, and things which have been reduced to a greater state than those; things which exist through themselves, and those which do not; things done sometimes rashly, sometimes prudently; things, in short, which are nowhere the same, not to say diverse, and implicated, and plainly most unlike one another. Because, therefore, we have done this, we have neither thought ourselves to be doing something inept, nor have we appeared so to others, nor if we shall do so hereafter, shall we be doing something empty, nor [shall we appear] to be doing ^C [so]. ^D

And great would be the punishment, heaping reproach upon us from every side, if we should choose to harm by our negligence those who—still observing the pure reverence toward God—possess an exceedingly ardent desire for both the practice and the investigation of the dogmas. Or perhaps it would be even more grievous if, when we had struggled even unto death against the terrible things encountered on behalf of piety in public and private deeds, we should then—out of a slavery to ease and our belly—remain silent and act as if we had condemned the [present] time as unseasonable, when it is actually a time of drinking and worthy of every effort. Wherefore, we must return to that from which our discourse recently deflected, and where it had paused in its course.

^B II. Since that winter was very harsh, with much snow falling for the most part and burying almost every home, the Emperor dwelt for the greater part of the time in Tenedos, managing other affairs and, above all, taking the greatest care for the custody of the Emperor’s brother-in-law, Matthew, for the time to come. It was deemed best, therefore, that he be carried off to Mytilene and kept there by the Latin Cataluso, who, being the Emperor’s brother-in-law by his sister, was in charge of the entire island of Lesbos. When this had been done, the Emperor returned again to Phocaea on account of the son of Hyrcanus, but he did not achieve any of the things he wished. And the winter ended with these matters. When the Emperor had returned again to Byzantium, and spring had already begun, the barbarian Hyrcanus descended from the higher regions of Bithynia as far as the coastal lands of the Chalcedonian territory, and he conversed there with the Emperor and communicated his counsel regarding his son once more—not in person, but by means of small boats and envoys, as the distance between them was very brief, the Emperor having come closer for the sake of convenience. With his own men, he pitched his tent above the tower which, surrounded by the sea, had been built in ancient times and is called Arcla by the Byzantines. As to what and of what kind were the things said and promised among them at that time through the envoys in the three days they spent there, and what sort of welcomes and kindnesses they offered each other, it is not necessary to recount in detail. The conclusion, however, of the conversation there was that they gave one another pledges that the son of Hyrcanus, who was to be set free, would become a son-in-law to the Emperor through his daughter, and that at the same time there would be perpetual and unbreakable peace treaties between the Romans and the Barbarians. Having received on these terms not a few sums of money from both Hyrcanus and the Byzantines, who had joined together to provide a contribution, the Emperor set sail with full canvas and docked again at Phocaea. And having given Calothetus nearly one hundred talents—or thereabouts—and having adorned him with the splendors of dignities, late and with difficulty did he receive the son of Hyrcanus. He set out happily for Byzantium. And the year at that time was at the height of summer, which, regarding storehouses and the care of fruits, necessitates bestowing labor upon the works of agriculture. The affairs of the Romans having thus been made more favorable everywhere, as the Emperor was traveling by ship as far as Byzantium, one royal trireme was the leader, and it carried the Emperor and the son of Hyrcanus. The other trireme...

triremes, sailing around and alongside, were singing in very joyful songs, seeing the peace promised by the leader of the Barbarians no longer sleeping in the shadows of hope, but having already come forth into the light by the ineffable providences of the man-loving God. ^A Now, as to the royal kindnesses and greetings shown during feasts, and the magnificence in the frequent changes of clothing displayed to the son of Hyrcanus—calling him son-in-law and son, and all the other things of this kind that human and public custom loves to say and do—it seems superfluous to me to recount them. For these things will be known to all, even if omitted by us; for everyone is able, according to his own judgment, to gather from the various accidents of life a broad knowledge of common opinions and customs, and to combine the experience of individuals into a single, practical system of wisdom.

As for the honors he paid him after the voyage was completed, within the sight of the Byzantines and as many as were present from foreign lands and cities, I have deemed it beyond the point to recount them. For all could see the Emperor leading the Barbarian horseman into the royal residence; he was riding behind the Emperor, with only the Emperor's children and relatives. ^B Yet that the Barbarian took notice of the excessive honor, and how he felt ashamed, his introduction through the royal gates in a manner unheard of clearly showed. For he grasped the Emperor’s hand with his own stretched out, and offering the reins of the horse upon which he rode, he requested in a loud voice that he be allowed to dismount, and though invited and almost protesting, he came as far as the middle of the royal courtyard. Where, indeed, not according to the Emperor’s will he dismounted from the horse, but, having seized the reins of the royal horse, he led it as far as the royal stable. Then he entered with the Emperor into the royal chambers, where, having seen the Empress Helena, he offered her obeisance in a servant-like manner and spoke these words: ^C “As for me,” he said, “by ways that the Creator and Lord of all things knows, I was suddenly taken captive, snatched from the very hearth and home of my own country, and I suffered the greatest of miseries, alas! But since this most powerful King of mine undertook many and varied labors for the sake of my freedom, and journeys, and endured the cold of long winters and the intolerable heat of summer winds carrying a furnace in the middle of the sea, and thus liberated me from the bonds of slavery, I have nothing worthy as a just repayment, for that is beyond my power. ^D But what does fall within my power, I cannot deny that I will render every debt of devotion and will in every way throughout the whole of my life.” When he had spoken these things and heard the response, as was fitting, he went to the chamber previously assigned to him, not outside the palace, but near the royal hearth. Splendid clothes, moreover, and such as were constantly changed, and various tokens of grace, given to him now by the Empress, now by the Emperor, and now by illustrious and noble men, it seems to me entirely unnecessary to report, just as it is better to pass over in silence the luxury of baths and banquets, which can all be known to everyone.

^B III. But it is worthier to marvel at this. What is this? I mean the king’s greatness of soul, how, amidst such delights, his two-year-old child fell into a brief illness and died, yet did not shake the foundations of his mind, nor did it persuade him to exchange cheerfulness for incurable despondency. But, having devised an improvised celebration, on that very day, while men and women were lamenting, he returned to his former cheerfulness. After three days, he then summoned the young barbarian suitor, and according to a certain ancient custom, showed him the maiden to whom he was betrothed, who was just entering her tenth year. ^C When these matters had been thus arranged, since the king had heard of Hyrcanus’s return from Nicaea to the Gulf of Astacus, he set sail immediately with the child of Hyrcanus. He arrived there, and as the child had also arrived, he restored the boy to his father, and at the same time demanded that the tokens of succession for the rule of Bithynia be handed over to him that day—for it was right, he argued, both because he was loved by him more than his other children, and as the betrothed of the king’s daughter, and as worthy of the rule because of the manliness of his mind, the strength of his body, and the effectiveness of his judgment. ^D Since Hyrcanus had also long desired and intended this, and since the king’s own previous agitation happened to have served to facilitate this intention of his, it seemed that the request was easily accomplished. Whereupon, many of the Byzantine soldiers, and not a few of the noble men, mingled with the barbarian soldiers and escorted the son of Hyrcanus with cymbals and drums and an official, princely standard, as far as one of the cities and homes in Bithynia that is illustrious and renowned—Nicaea is its name. There all the Bithynians gathered, as many of the barbarians and their kin as there were, and the half-barbarians, and besides them, those of our own inhabitants whom fortune had once compelled to serve the barbarians; they brought all sorts of gifts, sheep and oxen and furniture and many and varied things of this kind. A few days later, the Byzantines who had escorted him returned, with the thanks and gifts that had been sent from there.

IV. And these things reached this conclusion, and the summer ended with them; it had become so dry and parched and completely devoid of moisture that the vine-dressers had already fallen into despair and a sense of hopelessness, imagining that there would be a great scarcity and failure of wine. But the result proved the exact opposite, so that by common agreement it was considered a miracle following upon a miracle of better fortune. For the first and greatest miracle was divine, that in such times, when the strongest of the barbarian power had for a long time previously been consuming the Roman territories—

^A and had enclosed the gates of Byzantium, so that all the land outside the gates was a trackless and inaccessible wilderness—then, by the will of God, a sudden and unexpected liberation for the Romans came about from the captivity of the son of the Hyrcanian, so that in a short time the Thrace that was once fierce and full of robbers became accessible and cultivated for all. Second, that although the summer was seen to be extremely parched, such an abundance of wine grew on the vines that for most people there were not enough vessels to contain it; for the harvest was double and triple for most, compared to the previous year, and for some it even rose to four times as much, so that all—in a shared sense of wonder and from the depths of their souls—offered thanks to God, who, contrary to everyone's opinion, had opened an unexpected and truly marvelous way of salvation for those who were cast into the depths of despair, lifting them from the depths of the earth, drawing them from the muck of the mire, and placing their feet upon the unshakeable rock ^B of rational thought.

V. As soon as autumn began, when the emperor had traveled as far as Selymbria for the sake of a stay and moderate recreation, Manuel Asan came to him from Bizye to present the request of his master, which he had obtained two years earlier from Matthew, who was then reigning and conversing with him in Thrace, an ally of the Byzantines. He came with his neck bound by chains, from home, begging that he might find compassion, as he had made no small mistakes through the raids, forays, and lootings which, setting out from Bizye, he had inflicted upon the suburbs of the Byzantines, burning and plundering their fields and all their crops, and expecting and plotting something like a danger to the emperor from the Palaeologus. ^C But since such things require money for a protracted and long-term struggle—for it was indeed long-term and of great expense—the resources which he collected daily from his raids and lootings were scarcely enough for the daily pay of the soldiers; and failing to pay, and not having any other source from home, he saw, before he could see the dangers in which he was involved, that he himself was falling into an insurmountable crisis and daily sliding toward helplessness. For this reason, having come to the emperor and obtained the pardon he needed, and at the same time having once again received from the emperor the permission and administration of Bizye as before, he returned joyful and exultant, freed from the cares and fears that had tormented his soul day and night.

VI. Since in the twenty-eighth book of the present Roman history we have written ^D some things about Russia, which lies in the hyperborean parts of the world, for the sake of the subject's relevance, it is now necessary to tell the rest and to connect to those things what has been discussed and done in the meantime. For in this way, through a necessary connection, individual things will appear not to be separated from other individual things, nor will parts fight with parts, nor all things with parts, nor all things with all things of different matters, but I believe that the various histories, joined as if by a single bond, will appear well-ordered and quite harmonious. I have already narrated that the Russian nation is a very populous one for men, and I have measured the length and breadth of the land.

It is a land that is not easily measured in its entirety, as it is always cultivating and harvesting wealth that ^A is very great and abundant. For a great deal of silver is provided from there, mined by the local people, and since that land is crystallized by intense cold due to its distance from the sun, there arises, as is likely, a multitude of wool-bearing animals. When these are hunted, their furs are sent by the inhabitants to every other land and city, and they procure great profits for themselves. Moreover, some of the bones of the fish caught from the neighboring Ocean provide useful pleasure for satraps, rulers, kings, and, in short, for all men who are prominent and distinguished in their way of life. I pass over how much wealth beyond these things it provides to them even more abundantly.

This nation, then, from the time it flowed towards the pious religion and received the divine baptism of the Christians, has been ordained to be governed by a single high priest, who distributes the ecclesiastical administration of the whole nation in accordance with the needs of each region into various dioceses, both greater and lesser. This first high priest is subordinate to the throne of Constantinople and receives from it the canonical laws of spiritual authority. It is the rule that one, having been born and raised here among us, should relieve the other in the presidency there after the death of his predecessor, alternating so that the connection between the two nations might be ^B held firm and confirmed, and so that it might always keep the substance and power of the faith more secure, untainted, and pure, and foster the harmony of the faith more durably.

And to pass over the things in between—since the present need draws us on and pulls us at the same time—a bishop was sent there years ago from among the Nazarenes here with us, a prudent and God-fearing man named Theognostus. For a long time, there had been allotted to that nation, as a metropolis, a holy temple called Kygebos. But because of the Scythians from the north, who had recently overrun it, it had briefly become a desert and a ruin, as they say, so that it was no longer sufficient to be the seat and throne worthy of the Catholic Bishop of Russia. Therefore, it became necessary to transfer the status of the metropolis to another place appropriate to the present necessity.

For all that nation of the Rus, being very populous and inhabiting many and various ^C regions from ancient times, had long since been divided into three or four principalities and realms. When the divine preaching of piety arrived there in later times, most of them firmly grasped it, having at once filled themselves ^D with a warmer zeal for the divine.

^A And yet, in some places, they remained scattered and still held to their former wickedness. Thus, among the three principalities which from the beginning had attached themselves to piety, the aforementioned metropolis happened to be situated there—that is to say, Kyiv—bordering and existing in the immediate proximity of the sovereignty of the one under whose dominion the whole race of the Lithuanians exists: a race most populous and most warlike, but fire-worshippers according to the custom of their own ruler. This very fact—the diversity of religion—moved the metropolis to better its situation, though I do not know if this was a little before our own time, or a long time before. However, whether in this way or that, another city was found, lying as far away as possible in that direction, whose sovereignty a pious man girded himself with, and he adorned the government in a dignified manner, being called by the inhabitants there, for the sake of differentiation from the other, Volodimiro. ^B There, then, Theognostus the bishop also decided for the future to have his own residence. And at the same time, the one to whom the affairs of that land’s sovereignty were entrusted used to approach him and took great delight, regarding the arrival of the thing as an honor to himself, and a glory to his own rule, and not at all, indeed, as something insignificant or trivial. For he did not look upon the bishop as a man from the earth, but as an angel of some sort recently flown down from the heavens. And indeed, even when the time came for him to celebrate the sacred mystery for God, this ruler would bow down his lips and kiss the footprints of the one, and he would recompense him with ever more generous gifts and graces, so that from this, as many subjects as were watching would imitate him and vie with one another in a noble contention. And there was no one, so to speak, who did not hasten and think himself capable of excelling and prevailing over all others around him in the desire of his mind toward the better portion. And again, each one thought and reckoned that all the others, if not others in relation to each other, were at least altogether inferior to himself. And if someone’s piety toward God and toward everyone was not seen or was not clearly open—those who were neighbors of the same tribe—he was thought to be inferior to all the rest. So philothean was that nation from the beginning, and so much respect did it show to the see of Constantinople up until the reign of Cantacuzenus. But from the time that he tyrannized both the empire and the Church himself, as he should not have done, he both led the dogmas away from what was right and adapted them to complex heresies, and he set over the Church patriarchs whom he had brought to his own perversity ^C (which, indeed, I have little occasion to describe here in very few words, but it will be told as the history proceeds, even if not at length and sufficiently, but as much as is needed to understand the primary causes of the perversion that was subsequently breaking forth from that source).

VI. Since these things are thus, I cannot, however, for certain say whether our Theognostus himself was the first to effect the removal of that metropolis, or whether he utilized a situation already established. Nevertheless, he himself dwelt in the metropolis and in that province which is a part of great Russia, of which that pious ruler was the master. And he lived a righteous life, and one such as it behooves a pious bishop to lead. He proclaimed the virtue of a holy life, and he adorned religion; he adorned this megalopolis, from which he himself had sprung and been raised, and which had sent him there. Therefore, by a man so pious, all the men and women of that people, both young and old, were of their own accord incited to the pursuit of honesty, and even more so their leaders, who had sent a very large sum of money to Byzantium for the restoration of the collapsed part of the temple of the divine Sophia—of whom I spoke in the thirty-sixth book of the history—also having sent them in an honorable manner, but

^A they were not honorably administered; for those who sent them did not remit a just reputation, but sacrificing and attributing them for domestic gain, they offered to those who heard of it an utterly shameful and ignominious cause, and compelled them to think the contrary to what they had before. For the more divine the honor they had previously bestowed upon Constantinople, the graver the anger and hatred they returned, and that zeal which had previously guided and adorned their piety with illustrious fame, now fell into contempt, not among absolutely everyone, but among the many and the common sort, who, as it often happens, since they did not grasp the matter well, were held by an envious judgment and did not examine the weight of the previous reputation and what came after. And the sort of [conduct] which previously, through their conscience guiding them, adorned ^B their solemnity in the eyes of their hearers, flowed reasonably toward that which was despised just lately, if not in all things and entirely, at least in most and the simpler matters—inasmuch as such people understood little—and through some, as for the most part they comported themselves with an envious calculation and judgment and did not see the scales of their previous reputation and that which followed, which were not in balance.

VIII.

^A For they had been brought up in a singular way of life and in piety, being ordained and having gained experience in reading the holy books, being near fifty-five years of age, and having by nature a demeanor altogether grave and venerable. And the matter would have been brought to a good end for that nation for the sake of religion, if it had been enacted completely in accordance with the quest of the ethnarch who sent them. But the divine wrath resisted, allowing the Romans to accomplish nothing good because of the heresy of polytheism, which those ^B who had recently taken charge of the Church had brought in unlawfully. For as soon as Romanus had been ordained here, another person suddenly sprang up from there, named Alexius, who made his arrival in Byzantium with great haste; and, having been sown and produced not from there, but having received from some people the dignity of bishop, which he had bought with money, he appeared on the same day as a metropolitan, like that race of giants from the sown teeth—a base, knavish, and demented man, a stranger to every pious state, and withal guilty of many crimes worthy of deposition, as the letters of the locals who came from there subsequently indicated. But having brought a quantity of money, and having given some to Cantacuzenus, who was then reigning, and some to the one then presiding as patriarch, named Philotheus, he received from either—in accordance with the wishes and profit of each—what he needed with the greatest ease. And, to put it briefly, he stopped every mouth, and easily hushed all accusations into oblivion, having enslaved their minds and having despoiled the laws ^C and thrust them far from memory. Whence it has also happened that for this reason the metropolis of all Russia has been divided into two parts, one for Romanus and one for Alexius. And would that the division had remained as it was first made! But when Romanus was absent from the portion that had fallen to his lot, Alexius, having given more money, once again prevailed with larger sums and took over the portion, having injured Romanus at the critical moments. Wherefore also with short delay, Romanus was driven by necessity to return to Byzantium, full of hopes, since he realized that the scepters of the monarchy here had shifted to Palaeologus, and the patriarchal throne had shifted back to the one named Callistus. For the patriarch, having decided that he was very much in the right, along with the bishops who happened to be present at the time, ^D began to prepare letters and decrees to help him, inasmuch as he was being wronged. But before this could reach an end, Alexius is there again, bringing with him very many purses of money, by means of which he first mastered the mind of the patriarch—who was in a state of excessive longing for earthly matter, and not free from the corruption of a perverse mind—and then he went around to the others, giving and enslaving each one according to his measure.

^A Already, he was approaching the rulers and, by slipping them softer coins, he was dragging them also to his own will, they having already received permission from the Patriarch Kallistos, who had sworn to be a champion of the canons of the priesthood, and not to become a betrayer of its ordinances, nor to set forth for hire, as in a marketplace, the unsalable grace of the Spirit to those who seek it in the manner of Simon the Magician; then he himself was seen to be an overt transgressor, gambling with sacred things and openly urging the others toward the fellowship of evil. And because of this, he openly renounced those previous promises which had been prepared for him regarding the divine baptism, along with his subordinates who were in such great numbers. For, he said, it was better to worship the sun, which illuminates the whole world ^B and gives life and warmth, and which bears clear traces and symbols of the Creator of the universe, than to the demon of greed, by which I hear the present Patriarchs of the Romans are being ensnared—if one must judge according to the teacher of those same things, who, when the devil promised him he would give him kingdoms and the wealth of the whole earth if he would only bow down and worship him, rebuked and repelled him most strongly. So, the one who eagerly exults in these things, and in exchange for them abandons Him whom he chose to have as Lord and God—of what punishments, of what disasters would he not be worthy? Exchanging the good Lord and Benefactor for a devil, who is an enemy and an adversary, and not even fearing the sun—which is honored by me—as a witness of his own shamelessness, ^C in that he abandons the Creator of even that sun for earthly money with the whole inclination of his soul? For I consider this to be clear idolatry; for men have understood the sun to be an element from the beginning that is constitutive of the nature of all things on earth. But gold and silver are nothing but trodden earth, which is of no service to those who are of sound mind for any good; for how could it even preserve an image of the sun? And if one spends the ways of greed on unholy and profane acts—he who has obtained the duty of overseeing, and yet speaks for silver, and makes the dignity of the priesthood a thing to be bought for money, and this not of small things, but of things contained in magnitude and number and quantity, but even exceeding and extending beyond such limits—where would the incontinence of insult and absurdity not reach? ^D What Caucuses, what mouths of the Tanais, and what savagery of the Scythians would the report of such baseness not transcend? Or what kind of state would ever stand firm that does not cherish the foundations of remaining in place? And what sort of administration of houses and cities could be well-ordered, where those who are the guardians of the canons and laws, neglecting the good [reasons], see the bastions of justice being outdone, and treat hold on legality as worthless, and prefer falsehood to truth, and consider lawlessness as law, and the [perversion] of the votes of justice as...

^A base deeds. And they do not cease, by night and by day, to act against their own interests and the ruin of their own cities and states, which is obvious and manifest. They think they hold this very seat and position, for safety, as something immovable and unchangeable, equal to the celestial spheres, knowing this poorly and most ignorantly, and no better than those who are blind and cannot see at all what lies at their very feet. For even these men, seeing the fruits of such great and enormous wickedness and absurdity—or rather, having the rewards of their own wickedness laid before their eyes by night and by day—do not perceive it at all, but rejoice in devouring their own flesh like madmen. It is as if they were heaping gain upon gain, and inheritance of land and sea upon inheritance, and not suffering the exact opposite, with their own losses advancing to the very gates and, one might say, even their own houses, and spreading like fire, and growing at their own cost, devouring what is before them, especially when the force of the fire eagerly seizes hold of stubble standing in its path. ^B If, therefore, anyone should wish to accuse me of such things, he would long since need to call them thrice-wretched; and this, too, though they have been allotted the task of shepherding and regulating—not a flowing and ever-perishing material, but that great and most precious possession, which transcends every death: the human soul, that is. For it has fallen to them to hold the place of a corrector and a rule, and he who is believed to be the archetype for others—if he does not conduct himself according to the name he bears, nor render what is due to the virtue of the rule and of rectitude, [261 A] but applies a fair name to unholy deeds, he demonstrates clearly that it is not that the inferior ought to be ruled by the superior, but rather that the superior is being ruled by the inferior.

It is more miserable, and not at all seemly, to be a ruin to crowds and houses, to rulers and those ruled, to the young and the old, to men and women, to the rich and the poor, and to almost all—rational and irrational alike—when the worst of men legislate for the better. For the corruption of those who see would never be directed toward law-abiding behavior, nor, if any part of the state were diseased, would it be prepared to return to its former good health, but on the contrary, it would become much worse. For the leader and teacher is one who misleads and makes the path of the good and the truth hobble. For he himself directly becomes a promoter of illness instead of health, and is always descending from prosperity toward corruption; and he has generally acquired desolation as his companion, which responds to him in the words of his life and in the administration by which he is ordered. For just as justice is the creator of community, so injustice is uncommunal and dwells with desolation, making life beastly and altogether savage. For the city, which is composed of houses, must necessarily be a foundation of social order and be hedged about by the bonds of just laws. Thus, to whomever the leadership of a house is least suited due to his ignorance of the superior, much less will it be suitable for him to properly direct a whole city, which is a far larger part of a long-standing state. ^C As, therefore, it falls to the man with whom justice and lawfulness have been reared to be the best and to rule in the best manner, so it follows for him with whom they have not, to become the worst and to hold a most difficult office. For man, having by nature instruments for the practice of various virtues, if he does not wish to be governed by and to govern with justice and lawfulness, will show that every city, and state, and house, and indeed all matters, are ^D extremely difficult and perishing.

If then, let someone come forth and tell me from where else such great and monumental affairs have been brought down to such extremes of misery. Certainly from nowhere else but against themselves and from themselves, from home to home, as the saying goes. I, at any rate, would far more gladly be an open worshipper of the sun and of the God who made the sun, living in justice and lawfulness, than by greed—that most shameful disease of a most shameful character—spend my life in lawlessness and injustice, and by all manner of various pollutions, immerse what they call the cleansing baptism of the soul. For how and who shall baptize me, if I fill myself daily and nightly with such pollutions, and am so condemned by myself? For the hearers of the law are not righteous before God, he says, but the doers of the law shall be justified; and in every nation he who fears the Lord is acceptable to Him. For there is no respect of persons with God, but whoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. And indignation and wrath, and tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man who works evil, of the Jew first and of the Greek; but glory and honor and peace to every one who works what is good, to the Jew first and to the Greek.

^A IX. Having discoursed thus and so with anger and zeal, that rhetorician brought his speech to an end, keeping his mind inflamed toward the defense of those things that pertain to the Roman. And it is permitted, for those in whom an impassive understanding dwells with the hearing, to judge whether the things said hold to a fitting argument; and it is permitted again to consider whether it is tolerable for pious children of Christians that the report of this most shameful wickedness should run so far over land and sea, even to the Ocean and the Scythians, and that the shoot of the sect, so greatly increased, should be spread everywhere, bringing haughtiness upon the Roman Church, and finding most abundant foundations—namely, the iniquitous and unjust deeds of the patriarchs and bishops whom they had filled with evil dogmas through tyranny. For those impious men do not practice these abominations in secret, nor hidden away in some dark place, but in the marketplace and in the sight of all, throughout the whole world, they intentionally parade their own most base depravity. So far removed and entirely separated from the customs, justice, and prudence of the ancient state is it, and from any good of authority and dignity that might have remained, that it can now be said among us what God once spoke through the prophet Ezekiel concerning Jerusalem: “Say, he says, to the foolish daughter Jerusalem: Thy sister Sodom did not sin to half of thy sins, and Sodom was justified by thee”; that is, Sodom is righteous compared to thee, as the divine ^B Chrysostom says. ^C Nor do I think it obscure to prudent men how they, imitating that ancient feud, cast the heresy as a plague into the empire of that people, dividing one divine metropolis into two, moving its bishops here and there, so that those who occupy them might have a perpetual cause of strife, and of necessity come to the higher authority of the patriarchs of Constantinople, bringing accusations indeed against each other, but carrying home for their own benefit most abundant wealth. Nor do they show a sluggish and languid labor, that one might get ahead of the other, to those who bring from there a wealth of gifts to obtain sacred offices and the sees of bishops; nor do they employ a light or unconsidered prudence to excite and increase the flame of discord as much as possible. But they bring together great and varied material for the fire, a convenient path for gain, whence those things with which they...

^A and showing to those who bring gifts from there for the taking up of the priesthood and the presidency of the episcopates—not that these too were leading a slack and remiss concern in these matters toward stirring up and fanning the flame of strife to the greatest possible extent, but rather heaping up much and varied material for the fuel, becoming a very useful provision of shameful gain for themselves. Wherefore they also easily continued finishing the things for which they were hired, often even dissolving and throwing about from here and there what had been built differently just the day before, and which had been distributed in another way a few days prior, re-shaping them today differently and differently the next day, according to where the hand of either of the two sides that is heavier with the money frequently sent here from both directions pulls and drags the reins. And of such contests and struggles of this malicious and filthy strife, eating away and moving forward quietly and continuously like a sore, there happens to be no limit, nor any end to the strange gains and wicked acquisitions.

BY THE SAME

BYZANTINE HISTORY BOOK XXXVII

^B 1. Indeed, since I have more and greater things than those aforementioned to link to the history for the exhortation of some who know well how to listen (for we are convinced that history becomes a physician to posterity, praising as many as praise and accept the good, and rebuking those who do not wish to rebuke the bad), I fear lest I unwittingly do the contrary of what I desire. For it is possible, as in an infinite sea of time, in which nature flows continuously in many ways, by sudden change, and, as I might say, rolling, and always departs and falls into another state on account of the infinite and immutable power of images and things appearing at every time and in various forms, to explain and draw out the relationship of the changed and confused likenesses into an inapt unity. Wherefore, since not all can turn themselves toward imitating better things on account of an innate perversity of character, there is a fear lest some turn the imitation into the contrary and receive the rebuke of evils in history as a ruin to themselves, and propose to themselves the impudence and ^C rashness of others as an example. I shall now set forth an example of this matter which is in my memory. Therefore, in a few words and such as are sufficient for the narration of the history, I shall demonstrate how—

^A after the Palamitic heresy was created to the destruction of the holy dogmas of the Church, all institutions were simultaneously disturbed, and the ancient custom of the Church was corrupted, and that which was venerable and honorable in the whole state was inverted and led to ruin, with the right hand of God—so I believe—permitting it, as far as the authors and leaders of this perversity might understand it, so that they might come to conversion before they reached their end. For thus does God exhort through David, that no one should turn their foot toward the evil one, so that the keeper of Israel might not doze or sleep with a heavy head. Thus, it is also to be feared that, for those who are much more depraved than they are—namely, the prefects of this Church—that voice which once condemned the Jews might sound out with wrath, crying: “If you offer me fine flour, it is vain; incense is an abomination to me, and if you stretch forth your hands, I will turn my eyes away from you; and if you multiply your prayer, I will not hear you. For your hands are full of blood; and it happens that for these deeds, there is a necessity that— ^B your house is left desolate,” for from God He exacts the same penalties from those who perform the same acts.

II.

III.

^A of trafficking in the sacred rites and offering the gift of the Spirit for sale to profane men. Since such charges were spoken against Philotheus, who was patriarch after the deposition of Callistus—and since Alanias himself was present, summoning witnesses of good repute from Alania—the vote resulted in a temporary postponement. The trial being thus suspended, suddenly John Palaeologus leapt into Byzantium from outside and recovered his paternal empire, having ejected Cantacuzenus, as has been recounted by us at length elsewhere; and following this, Callistus, who had been deposed from the patriarchate and the priesthood by Philotheus, as if by prearrangement [f. 264 a] avenging himself, deposed Philotheus from the priesthood and was installed as successor to the patriarchal throne in his place. How these things were plotted by them and what other events occurred in the meantime has been stated by us with moderation, and perhaps it will be told at greater length by others who have extended the history further than we have here. Now, Symeon went to this Callistus, who had previously held the patriarchate, asking that he grant oblivion for the charges brought against him under Philotheus, and promised that he would send large sums of money if he were restored to his see in Alania. Moved by this, Callistus, having gained an assured hope of the promised things, effected it as quickly as possible, and Alanias, having become his grateful colleague, was his fellow-minister in sacrifices, festivals, and public assemblies, and his associate in the daily conduct of judicial matters. But when the latter departed, and the promises were neglected in continuous oblivion, the one who had accused him before—Callistus by name—perceiving this, arrived with all haste, his hands full, from there to the man of the same name and character, Callistus, [bringing] the things he had previously brought to Philotheus, and now bringing accusations against Alanias, and at the same time seeking his deposition and his own uptake of the throne. Therefore, Callistus, drawn in by the ease of the gifts, convicts him of flight from judgment because of his absence, and sends the man of the same name, Callistus, to the throne of Symeon, having ordained him. Thus did this second man accomplish his return to Alania, which was fortunate and rapid, and thus, having easily acquired the archiepiscopal see of the former, he ignominiously cast out Symeon. And the latter, having traveled to Byzantium, went around calling out to all the bishops and presbyters, crying out against the injustice of his condemnation, and accusing Callistus of the blatant subversion of sacred canons and laws. ^C When this lawless, unholy, and disgusting affair had thus become public knowledge, it reached even the ears of the King, who himself could no longer hold his tongue, but being nearly stunned by the recklessness of the act, wrote this from his heart to the Patriarch: "If the charges previously reported were true, why, when you heard them, did you not reject him, but made him your colleague? But if they were not true, why did you remove him with such hasty expulsion? And, which is most unjust and can in no way be excused, why did you do so in his absence? Furthermore, even if it were permissible to expel him, it is still a crime to appoint his accuser as successor in his place. It is manifest, therefore, that you, desirous of the episcopal dignity, have contrived guile out of fraudulent envy. You, however, being yourself desirous of his money, have performed an act most unjust and especially

illegitimate, and, to speak with David, have prepared a cistern and dug a pit into which you yourself deserve to be cast, according to the precepts of the holy canons and laws, unless you quickly provide for his restitution, and apply the fitting remedy yourself, who have inflicted the wound. For you see that the hatred of the bishops is stirred up against you, and a great tumult over your case is constantly flying to my ears. Against these things, indeed, I am not able to pose even the slightest objection so that your crimes might be covered and cease; but they hold in readiness not only that present act, but many other diverse and grave charges against you. Any one of which, they say, is sufficient for your expulsion. All the holy canons cry out the same, so that they may not lose their force. Since all these things are thus divulged everywhere by rumor, and open the mouths of the malicious against you, they afflict my soul with no small sorrow. ^D

IV. To these things Callistus, being in lack of counsel and vehemently saddened, for a long time day and night turned over in his mind with himself and with all his associates what he should do; until, of two choices which had brought with them no small squall and tempest in his consideration, one seemed better. For he replied: If there shall be two metropolitans in one metropolis, it conforms neither to the canons and laws of the holy Fathers, nor is it established by the customary fashion, but it has something altogether strange and utterly monstrous, and shamelessly takes away the will of the Fathers. Now indeed, if we expel Callistus, who is kinsman to us by name, from his office, and restore Symeon again, he will immediately hasten to us with an outcry and will vex us, and will demand back the gifts which he gave us for the episcopal office—all the things by which he himself bought the metropolis. This, however, will cause me pain sharper than many swords, at once, with great infamy. For the bishops, who before going to examine the crimes and refute them, gnash their teeth at me most bitterly, even take care to cast more new stains upon me; an impiety indeed not small or single, but great and depraved. How will they spare their tongues if those things which now strictly cling in rumor are brought into the light, but are still hidden by clouds and doubts? Indeed, I have marveled at this in those troublesome and malevolent men—that, forgetful of their own turpitude, they constantly cleave to mine, and rejoice in my stains, and above all others rebuke me regarding the heresy of the Massalians. For they slander me frequently and continuously, nor do they ever cease, always standing and lingering in the same crime. For in my former patriarchate under King Cantacuzenus, before the year had ended, they were sharpening their proud and very bitter tongue

^A against my fortune, first accusing me of this Massalian heresy. And they would perhaps have expelled me from these patriarchal thrones with disgrace, had they not perceived that they were the common enemies of my own and of the newly appeared Church, and thus held back from their folly. And this was the first thing those abominable and wicked men sharpened against my head. Secondly, having woven together even more and subsequent things regarding such a Massalian heresy, and having moved more frantically against me, they drove me out of the patriarchate entirely, not to say from life itself, as far as it depended upon them. For my secret flight to the Galatan fortress of the Latins preserved my soul among the living until then. And after they learned that I had arrived at Tenedos to the Emperor Palaeologus, they did not keep silent even then, but by letters and heralds they condemned me with very frequent imprecations, and occupying the mountain itself, they drove me out as a Massalian, infamous everywhere. Even recently, when the Emperor was again taking up his paternal rule, I who had returned with him experienced many vexations from them, and especially in that they turned away from me as from a Massalian. When, however, the Emperor had quieted this contention and tumult, suddenly again writings ^B from the inhabitants of Mount Athos and the chosen monks there were divulged against me, which openly accused me day by day of this same Massalian heresy. I could not bear to hear these with open ears, but relying on the Emperor's benevolence toward me, I rejected them strongly as shameful and absurd. But now, when the Emperor himself, spurred by their impulse, urges me, I can do nothing else for necessary defense until I have arranged it according to my plan, than what I think no one of them expects: that I should crush them with anathema and schism, and turn their mind toward themselves, and not truly toward attacking us any further.

V. Having at once constituted this within himself, he immediately carried it into effect. ^C For the next day in the morning, having convened an assembly of priests and all of the clergy and the people who were near and dwelt around the celebrated temple of the Wisdom of God, without any preamble, and having in fact omitted all reasonable causes, he published a schism, standing in the middle of the concourse, and anathematized all the bishops who had severed themselves from his communion, and especially those who had accused him of the abominable Massalian heresy. But by saying and doing these things ^D contrary to the authority of every canon and law, he showed himself in truth to be guilty of the crime. For this, having been heard by the bishops and by the Emperor himself, was judged and declared as such. For it was necessary for him to have confidence and move directly to the trial and seek proofs and convict the accusations as false, if it had been in his power; but he, having openly fled the trial, took refuge in absurd insults, just as...

^A if they were a veil for his own ignominy, and as a means of temporary escape from necessity. Wherefore it seemed good to some of the bishops to oppose just sentences to his unjust insults and schisms, and to depose completely that unbridled man, who was always adorning himself with the licentiousness of his tongue rather than being ashamed. But because it did not please the Emperor to oppose a counter-measure equal to such vanity and childish folly, the judgment remained suspended until the arrival of the summoned bishops.

VI. The Patriarch, however, being ashamed of the disreputable rumors held by the majority, remained at home for the rest of the time, altogether neglecting the threats and fending them off; for I omit to mention how he had surrendered his mind to his untamable tongue and how in this manner he belched out most disgraceful things and poured forth curses. ^B Yet a certain perplexity arose among those who heard how, regarding all the other accusations as of secondary importance, he had especially welcomed the charge of the Messalian heresy and deemed it of the greatest consequence. And while some [said] one thing and some another, their consensus gathered the conclusion into one goal: that this state of affairs was an old disease of his, often charged against him even by many outsiders; but now the accusation had gained an inescapable force, because the proof of the wickedness had emerged from among those within, from his own household and hearth, as the account of the bishops has testified and confirmed to the Emperor. For ^C they said that others had brought [accusations] against the Patriarch, and [they related] how, in regard to the one wearing the monastic habit, nicknamed Scorpion, about whom much had already been spoken frequently by others, and especially by those who spend their life on Mount Athos, and on whose account two or three treatises and public accusations had been sent by them to the Constantinopolitan Patriarch and the bishops—[these accusations] declared horrible and unspeakable crimes, not only odious and most abominable to the ears of Christians, but even hateful to the most godless of barbarians. This man, they say, whenever he comes to Constantinople from the Triballi—or wherever else he may have ^D his secret long-term residences—becomes the sole companion and table-fellow of Patriarch Callistus, and the teacher and initiator of secret rites. After this, he goes to the place of urination and sits upon the green herbs and grasses, such as they cast into the pots at the Patriarch’s table for their good fragrance, for those who prepare the various kinds of food. And when we asked him again and again, they say, the reason for this daring act, he replied that there was nothing strange in this; for dogs also urinate upon them, and cats, and animals and humans alike cast dung there if the need arises; and nothing hinders them. These were the responses they received, as they say. But other things they had observed in silence, and concerning which they had not questioned him, since they held them to be impious and detestable and works of diabolical doctrine, they reported to the bishops and...

others. They know well, for those who have read those dispatches and have declared such things to be of the Massalian ^A practices understand.

VII. For we remember how, nearly fifteen years ago, under Patriarch John, a document was brought to us from Mount Athos, sealed with the signatures of almost all the monks living there, and above all, and among all, that of Isaac, who at that time held the primacy there, and who was also the high priest and bishop of that place, a man full of the grace of the Spirit. This document indicated to our holy synod, by name and one by one, all those who, having donned a mask of piety, had long gone unnoticed while frequenting the holy places of that mountain, and who had seduced many of the more simple-minded there into their own foul heresy, but who at that time had become manifest. And when they were all gathered into one place there, and their wickedness was publicly exposed, those who confessed and abjured their evil were permitted to remain, in whatever state they were, on that mountain; but those who did not abjure were all expelled against their will and with all ignominy, except for those who, through the silence of their confederates, were not recognized. And immediately afterward, heralds from the men of that Holy Mountain ^B ran throughout every city and island, distributing writings that revealed their foul heresy and commanded that their company and associations be avoided, along with the lawless, monstrous, and utterly impious rituals they performed. These things indeed testify against him, as one who has been caught up in the heresy of the Massalians for many years; but even more do the very things he was led to utter with his own lips testify, so that, according to the proverb, his own lips have become an inescapable snare and a firm trap. For it is apparent that all the accusations he has leveled against others at different times were mere deceits; and it is apparent that when he convened and set up a "theatre" on Mount Athos, aimed especially at those Massalians who had long since insinuated themselves there, he spoke at a time when he was fashioning accusations against others for the very illicit acts he himself practiced in secret. For he claimed to have caught some in the act, throwing the holy images of the Savior and His saints into dung with their own hands; and others, he said, had committed many other similar acts, and some even more foul and detestable, such that we cannot even speak or write of them here due to the enormity of their absurdity. And by saying these things, as if to construct a plausible argument ^C for himself, he added: "I would never have made public such wickedness if I were conscious of being involved in these same Massalian crimes, and admitting to the same charges myself."

VIII. But while he asserted these things on his own behalf, he was convicted by his own self, for he was proven to have deliberately inclined toward audacity in fraud and lies, inferring things he had not done, for which

^A he had rendered himself, and was oblivious, as it were, to his own ensnaring and weaving the inescapable and strong nets with which he was about to be surrounded. For the accusers of the bishops and presbyters brought forward other matters to prove he was clearly lying, and not least the long and unbreakable friendship of Scorpion, whom many and very clear testimonies had long since adjudged, and do still adjudge, to be a Messalian, possessing a great deal of indubitability and being utterly unable to be concealed by any cloud of fabrication. For who would ever believe that one who had possessed his friendship from the beginning as something inseparable, and carried it about as it were an idol in the chambers of his heart, was really intent on convicting others, and would not rather judge himself to be their fellow-initiate and a manifest companion of those same ones?

Thus it happened ^B that the accusers collected these four propositions, not from those outside, but from those things which he himself had conceded regarding himself. In these, the first is: that the Messalian heresy, which he himself now says is the most wicked of all heresies, he did not divulge when he knew that it was then prevalent upon the mountain, neither before others nor after others, nor then nor immediately after, and this though he was one of the many who happened to be present at that time and heard it.

The second is: how, when he had no desire to join even with those who were in some way revealing such great wickedness there, he instead cherished it for many long periods of years, as if it were some treasure stored within his heart, and until now kept it unmanifest—the ^C specific development and clarification of it—yet now he wishes to parade it forth, the time long past when such investigations were appropriate, thinking that he might perhaps find some refuge for his defense.

The third is: how, for a long time now, the Scorpion has been accused of being always actively engaged in such a heresy, and although many letters have come from the honored men of the mountain, clearly convicting him of that ancient wickedness which flourishes even to this day, he himself persists in always defending him, having become an unassailable champion and, so to speak, an adamantine pillar for him; and crying out often, mixing earth with heaven, and acting like those who have lost their mind, he drives that which is fixed in his own opinion ^D and condemns everyone with a long anathema, not those who are involved in these crimes, but those who are not at all hesitant to bring an accusation against the Scorpion.

And the fourth is: that even until now he insists on seeing the only immutable and uncreated God, and another light, also uncreated, proceeding by transition to the lower, with which he is pampered and stupefied. All these things, and if there is anything beyond these, having set forth certain indubitable propositions, they brought forward the obvious and indubitable conclusion, namely, that he had been an adherent of the Messalian heresy from the beginning and remains so until today. For this axiom has been long confirmed by both secular and our own teachers, that from true and indubitable terms and propositions a true and evident conclusion necessarily follows. Wherefore, perhaps, they might then have expelled him from the episcopal dignity had they not, out of anxiety and timidity,

^A himself secured the goodwill of both emperors through the most abundant prayers and tears on both occasions, and purchased for himself the support of those surrounding the emperors with flatteries and varied gifts—so that, from that point on, he was no longer considered entirely harsh and bold toward the imperial wills, nor as intractable, senseless, and reckless as he had been before.

IX. As for me, although I could set forth countless other matters even graver than those already told, which provide clear evidence of his depravity, I will now, of my own accord, pass them over for two reasons: one, because lingering upon such foul stains imparts a habit of impudence to the tongue that is in no way becoming to decent men; the other, because to provide knowledge of matters that have long been known to the multitude is as far from providing pleasure to those who are aware of them as it is to make the things themselves easily credible. For those things which present knowledge of their own accord and without effort to the intellect usually produce, as a consequence, a sense of tedium when someone later attempts to teach them. ^B Yet, who could possibly recount in detail all the ways in which they behave like buffoons and secretly tamper with my books? And when they do these things, even while they are being constantly refuted by us, they nevertheless feel no shame; rather, insolence has begotten insolence, and impiety a more grievous impiety. "You had the impudent eye of a harlot," says the Scripture (Jer. III, 3). What insult, then, would such men not use against us? What bitterness would they forgo in their shameless behavior toward my books, since they are caught continually daring such things against the holy Scriptures, because those Scriptures themselves struggle against their heresy? For indeed, because they fight against them tyrannically—as if attacking them from a throne—and treat holy things as if they were mere trifles for amusement, they have used and continue to use every kind of shameless buffoonery against them. And in tearing them apart here and there, they comport themselves no better than we hear the Bacchantes did in their madness against Pentheus. ^C But for them, since their madness brought the disgrace upon them against their will, there might perhaps follow some excuse and mercy, as that which they did not intend has brought an accusation of deeds committed; but for those who voluntarily perform such acts as are characteristic of madmen, an implacable and very severe castigation is owed. People most willingly forget the former, and no one suspects from that quarter any infinite harm; but as for the latter, the many are forced, even ^D against their will, both to remember and to loathe them, guarding against their danger and curbing them before it occurs. For indeed, these very impudent men were recently caught in the act regarding my writings, as if raging with drunkenness: turning the word *eu* into *pheu* by adding the letter *phi*, and changing *kalon* into *kakon* by the mutation of a single letter into *kappa*. Furthermore, they ejected the preposition *peri* and substituted *kata*—theirs are the antics of schoolboys

^A acting as they do when the proofs are before their very eyes, by virtue of the whole sense of the discourse and the arguments and works together, as is reasonable, and especially the Scriptural texts, and all things which attend the discourse concerning such a Light. But by doing these things they can neither harm us, and at the same time they are compelled—even against their will—to confess their own weakness, nearly crying it out, and displaying themselves as those who are otherwise unable to look upon the truth. And they suffer things similar to Aesop's camel, which, desiring due to innate weakness to have defensive horns, was deprived of its own ears. ^B And it occurs to me to think that they desire, if they could, to cut off my head with a sword and rid me of the present life; but since they cannot, they pilfer my things like a favoring wind, scrape them away with knives, and tear them apart at their will. And sometimes they even reign in the depths of disturbance as much as they can, although at other times, the right hand of God acting against them, they are often struck and brought to death, and remain always struck and shown as wolves gaping in vain, as the proverb goes. Thus they are clothed in all impudence and an intractable disposition that seems never capable of amendment. For when it would be fitting for them to be submissive and to blush, they are instead impudent, and as has been said, they act in more serious and worse ways against me, and threaten to act so always, for no other reason at all than that they fear the proofs emanating from these things. ^C So that I am also compelled to exhort my friends, whose task it shall be after my death to approach these things and to urge them to seek out and collate copies of the Scripture which have been transcribed with other similar ones, and indeed accurately by our followers, so that they may discern what is true. For since I had felt this fear and had allowed it to grow within me, I handed over those things which were written by the various transcriptions of different well-trained hands, those which were for domestic use, and those which were, if I may so say, a sacred and inviolable treasure for friends who requested them. I had indeed left them with others to be transcribed in multiple copies by hands well-trained to write correctly, some at my own expense, and some for friends who had asked for them as wealth, so to speak, sacred and inviolable.

X. Concerning the death of Palamas

^D But meanwhile, as Palamas was occupied with this work and labor, the end of his life arrived, very bitter and disgraceful. For he had fallen into the customary iliac disease, in which food is forced upward from the gut through the mouth, and furthermore into a manic delirium, so that he was violently and bitterly snatched from life. Then, indeed, his heretical followers—those most kin and associated with him, who were as greedy for glory as he—wishing to cover up the disgrace of his death, published and circulated a rumor through the city of Thessalonica that he was healing diseases and curing the fever-stricken and averting plagues, and other such strange and unheard-of things: so that the miraculous rumor might turn ears toward the novelty of the portent and deliberately draw them far away from the truth, so that the lie of the rumor might flow. But all these things vanished and were refuted by the passage of time, as if blown away by the wind. For

^A truth is not accustomed to be cajoled by such obvious lies; rather, time, in its investigation of all things, comes and attacks in various ways, just as a charioteer controls the ends of words and deeds, and contrary to all expectation, at different times, it turns the rudders of the ship for each man in the sea of life. And upon those who have happened to fight against God at various times and places and in various matters, it brings a just punishment in diverse turns of fortune. ^B Yet the fanatical followers of the Palamite heresy, seeking as best they could to hide the ignominy of [Palamas’] death, as has been said, offered many coins to some of the needy who were lying in the streets—as the letters sent to us from there clearly revealed—and at the same time they bade them approach Palamas’ tomb and circulate miraculous dreams and sing such praises, having hired them for a great reward.

Now the men who migrated from there to Byzantium reported these things to us, and the following were also in the letters: After those in the faction at Byzantium, as they report, had secretly stolen some things from our writings, since they were unable—as has been said—to counter them, they were forced by necessity to look, for a weak defense, to a second course of action, and they sent them to Palamas in Thessalonica, inciting him to the boldness of a defense. They acted similarly to those who, having attempted to pile the burden of a great merchant ship onto a small boat, are suddenly forced to sink it into the depths of the water. ^C For, led by his accustomed ambition of mind, Palamas even then exercised the malice of his tongue, and at the same time, by offering a taste of some sweet hope to those who at that time happened to be filling the heretical sect, he did not refuse nor delay, but having cast himself into a struggle far greater than his own strength, he suffered things worthy of long execration; and what those are, we are ashamed to speak of today, lest anyone suspect that we rejoice in his sufferings—a thing that is entirely contrary to our character and a lie. For living through that struggle, and spending whole nights without sleep, as they say, he was seized, before he could accomplish anything of his studies, by delirium and madness, as is said, because of an excessive dryness of the brain. And it is possible for one to hear the following things from other witnesses and writers as well. ^D For we do not now recall such things as a reproach; for we know that such things befall the evil and the good alike, by the judgments of the Lord, which He alone knows. But we, following the laws inherent in history and seeking everything in detail, moderately touch upon such matters, which others do not in the least hesitate to pursue further. But they openly attribute the blame to that demon, to whom, having become evil through the perversity of his will, a certain pernicious lot has been assigned, as it were, to be the leader of the heresies arising and re-arising here and there against the Church of God, to do all the worst things according to his power, and at the same time to contend continuously against the representation of the saints. And such indeed are those who have delivered the empire of worship to him, and whose entire way of life and conduct differentiates them from the orthodox and separates them from the choir; not to mention [how many] patriarchs and bishops [there were] when the heresy was born,

^A who, having fallen under anathemas, were consigned to eternal fire.

11. But of these matters, so much for the present.

12. Such and so varied [were the machinations] on account of excessive necessity

^A on the poor Byzantines, and indeed on all the Romans together, did misfortunes and evils descend, as if flowing and gushing from a turbid and bitter fountain—namely, the tyranny of those then in power, which they brought upon the empire and against the divine dogmas, stirring up a most heavy winter and persecution against every good thing; because of which God, I suppose, withheld His own providence. Hence every kind of education has been driven out, and virtue and the prestige of virtue have been turned into their opposite; and new and strange customs, and those entirely alien to that former kingly and civic wisdom and education and decorum, have spread over almost all the Romans who belong to this new state. And what might one say about their clothing, how much even in this has been changed contrary to custom, and how the state has been so far removed and renovated from all knowledge that one can no longer recognize who is a Roman and who is of some other race? For neither has the Persian costume been strictly adopted by the Romans, nor the Latin entirely, nor yet the Gothic at all, nor that of the Triballians and, at the same time, the Mysians and Paeonians; ^B but, as those who speak of music say, the consonance and virtue of that former harmony has been turned in our own day into a completely contrary mixture and hodgepodge. And we see within the sacred enclosures the sons of friends bearing heads resembling the Latins, while the whole body is dressed in the fashion of the Persians or Medes; and on the following day [they appear] having the same men one way, now another, now in neither fashion, but rather in a manner in some way more monstrous and strange according to the unrestrained caprice of each individual. I suppose God permits the Romans to fall into such perversity so that they might recognize, through such external things, the winter within their souls and the manifold storm and ^C instability concerning the divine dogmas of the Church, and that they may be their own accusers immediately from the first sight and encounter. And just as on the sea, when a ship is bereft of its own anchors and is driven out into the open deep, it incurs countless and immeasurable wanderings and dangers, so here too, once one absurdity has been allowed, countless absurdities have followed. First, the destruction of the greatest, ancient, and highly-regarded palaces, and of all the noble houses similar to them, and at the same time, the continuous sale and removal of the columns and of the pavements and of the variegated and marvelous marbles to the castle of the Galatians; and thus all the ornaments were carried off here and there, along with everything else that contributed ^D to the decor of this greatest of cities and to its celebrated brilliance. Then the same happened to the sacred and divine temples, which had provided the city with much greater glory than the magnificence of those [other] buildings.

XIII. At the beginning of the spring, the leader of the Triballians had died, Crales of Serbia, and from this, troubles and turmoil arose there for the new successor to the rule, not only from the overseers of his country and the cities, but also [because] Nicephorus, the son of the Count of Cephalonia, whom I [mentioned] above...

as having become the Emperor Cantacuzenus's son-in-law by his daughter, and who had accompanied him before he had seized the empire, ran immediately to the Acarnanians and the Aetolians. Having taken them as allies, and at the same time Simon, who was at that time the leader of the regions and cities there—being his brother-in-law by his sister, and the son of the deceased Kral of Serbia—he attacked the cities of Thessaly, which up to that time had been subject to the Kral, and which had invited him long before, and had now voluntarily come over to his side. And in this way he established for himself a not insignificant authority, since the neighboring Albanians and Illyrians had also flowed over to them.

XIV. At this same time, there came from the Mysians to the young Emperor Andronicus, the child of the Emperor John Palaeologus, his bride, Maria, the daughter of the King of the Mysians, Alexander, who having just reached the ninth year of her age, was almost the same age as he. ^B Immediately thereafter, there followed Irene, the sister of the Emperor John Palaeologus himself, who had long ago been sent as a bride to the son of the aforementioned Alexander, but who had become a widow after the passage of years, childless, and she had spent her life there up until this very day. Consequently, they were children of one father—namely, Alexander, the King of the Mysians—both he who had been united with her previously and she who had now come from there as a bride for her brother's son, Andronicus; but they were from two different mothers. For Alexander, having divorced his former wife while she was still living, had introduced another from the Jewish people, having just recently brought her to holy baptism himself, inflamed, as they say, by her beauty.

XV. These things, then, occurred in this manner, and with them the spring came to an end. At the beginning of the summer, however, it happened that one of the sons of the satrap of Bithynia, Hyrcanus, was captured by pirates. This came about ^C indeed as something unlooked for by everyone, but to me, according to the will of God, it seemed that the Romans might thereby be able to catch their breath for a little while at least, so that they might not lose heart on account of the long-standing continuity of their many years of woes. It happened in the following way. There is, beside the strait of the Euxine Sea, a certain narrow lake, of moderate length and width, and so to speak, each dimension is commensurate with the other—the width to the length and the length to the width. From the left side of this lake, which looks toward the west, a long promontory runs out from the land almost to the middle of the lake, in such a way that it divides and severs the sea it cuts into two branches ^D on either side, and, becoming like an isthmus, it repels and breaks the waves on both sides, creating what are like two ports, and offering the same opportunistic use to both sides equally. These inlets are called among the local people by two different names, which are sufficiently clear-sighted to those who hear them: the one is called Dascylius, the other Astacenus. This part of Bithynia, which the son who was third in age after the eldest had received as an allotment from his father Hyrcanus, had its dwellings now farther from the lake, now nearer, according to his own pleasure. And when he was staying there to ward off the summer heat, he summoned to himself one of the inhabitants who was tending to nets and fishing, and with...

^A a quiet motion he sailed past the headland from one sea into another, just for the sake of some refreshment. It happened at that time that a piratical monoxylon, which was accustomed to do this very thing along different parts of that Barbarian coast and the land of Asia in order to earn money from the spoils taken there—Persian wealth from unknown sources—and to provide for its own livelihood from foreign captives, was lying in ambush along the shore, which was covered and shaded by trees. This vessel, therefore, suddenly falling upon the fishing boat by some unexpected chance, leapt upon it and captured it, though not without bloodshed. And the result of this chance occurrence ^B proved to be a more important and long-lasting matter than any other. Having learned the great value of its catch, it immediately sailed away, heading toward Phocaea—a city anciently Hellenic, but now paying tribute to the Barbarians so that it might be secure from fear and danger. For it lies on the headland of a certain marine gulf that extends deep into the land of Aeolis and almost reaches the borders of the Lydian kingdom. This city is governed by whoever the Emperor of the Romans chooses and sends from Byzantium, for whatever time he may stipulate. When this news was reported to Hyrcanus, the father of the captive, it seemed to him absolutely intolerable, and even equal to his own death; for while he had indeed lost his son, he did not know by whom. Distracting his mind with various conjectures and speculations, he long lent an uncertain ear to the shifting rumor, until he discovered that it was the Phocaean pirates who had abducted his son, and that they were indeed Romans, but from some foreign and mixed-Barbarian territory; and since he could ^C neither from the sea nor from the mainland punish his son’s abductors, he turned to the Emperor. He promised him that he would be, with all his heart, a true and ready helper in everything he commanded, and that he would pay the necessary money without fraud, if only the Emperor would procure the liberation of his unhappy son and restore him to him alive as quickly as possible. But at that very time, when nothing had yet come of that affair, it happened that the elder of Hyrcanus’s sons, whom he had designated as his successor and administrator of the higher affairs of his satrapy, died. This drove Hyrcanus to even greater affliction of soul and urged him to seek his son who was still living in bonds. Therefore, he did not cease from continually sending men to urge the Emperor on and make him more earnest ^D to the task, providing money for these purposes—some from his own stores, and some he remitted from previous debts—to meet the expenses, enough to man and equip triremes against the Phocaeans. And at the same time he added the promise that he would, as soon as possible, deliver to him in chains Matthew, the adversary and enemy of his empire, and would thus shortly free him from long-standing disturbances. And so, first of all for this reason, the Emperor sent envoys to the prefect of the Phocaeans. But he, puffed up by the favor of fortune, returned arrogant words and demanded money and praise for his merits on account of his good fortune. But as the request had been made twice, thrice, and more often, and he was already inclining toward defection, and the Emperor had made his efforts of no avail, the Emperor

^A gathered three very large triremes from Byzantium, along with many smaller biremes and monoremes from Tenedos, Lesbos, and Lemnos, and set sail, anchoring in the harbor of the Phocaeans. And in the midst of this, the winter ended.

As spring began, he prepared for the siege. Since he was unlikely to find an entry unless he first removed the lord of the country lying outside—I mean the ruler of the Lydians—from the friendship of the Phocaeans and made him his own friend, he reached out with his right hand in pledge, making promises of both friendship and kinship. Having grown confident, he now surrounded the city by land and sea ^B and waged heavy war against the apostate. As the Phocaeans within were defending themselves feebly, and at the same time a south wind was blowing quite strongly against the ships, it repelled the imperial forces when they were almost victorious.

Since much time was being worn away on these affairs, and the Emperor began to go out without suspicion, and with great boldness, as if among friends and guests with the Barbarians, habitually hunting and spending the days with them without fear, and promising that he would not leave until the city had been worn down by famine and handed over to him against its will, the Barbarian—that satrap of Lydia, I mean—began to consider within himself, having broken his word, how he might easily conquer the Emperor who was hunting and living among them, and quickly gain control of many forces and many Roman cities, and at the same time secure for himself great fame among his own people and foreigners. But God, having determined better things for the Emperor, let the Barbarian be caught before he had done what he sought. For when the evil plan was reported to the Emperor by one of the Barbarians, the Barbarian, unsuspecting, came the next day at dawn with his usual grace, bringing horses to the Emperor and inviting him again to the hunt and to delights full of favor and friendly banquets, while he was departing from the command trireme ^C.

The Emperor, pretending that he had some more secret counsel to disclose to him first inside the trireme, and then he would go out with him, called him toward himself; and he obeyed. As he entered, the moorings were immediately cast off, and the ship was seen moving straight out to sea, holding within its nets that land-dwelling and oath-breaking Barbarian. And when he was suddenly confronted by the proofs, he even confessed the impropriety of his plan and uncovered the secret treacheries of his heart.

Then, after a few days, the wife of the Barbarian came ^D, bringing money for her husband, and saying at the same time that if she did not receive her husband, she would go away and take another for the protection of the realm, lest some robber attack suddenly and, finding the government orphaned, enslave both it and her children. Having heard this, the Emperor, and having considered with himself that according to the woman’s words there would be a loss to him and an inglorious victory for the king over the satrap, received the money that had been brought to him, and in place of the remaining debts took her children as hostages, and thus rendered the husband free to the woman.

knowing that whichever of the things said to his wife might come to pass, he was making the Emperor’s victory over the satrap injurious and inglorious; and he received the money that had been brought for the time being, and in place of the remainder of what was still owed, he accepted the woman’s children as hostages, and thus released the husband to the wife.

^A XVI. This contest having concluded successfully for the Emperor and without bloodshed, another event of greater moment occurred—or rather, the greatest and most momentous of all those he was planning, and something better and more wonderful, because it was achieved with no effort at all. For as summer was already setting in, and the wheat ears were calling for the reapers and binders of sheaves, the Emperor Matthew, son of Cantacuzenus, having taken four thousand barbarian cavalry received from his father-in-law Hyrcanus, as well as any Roman soldiers obedient to his Empress who were in the region of Boleron, and having crossed the narrow passes near Christopolis, began to plunder the lands beyond the city of Philippi, and especially those regions neighboring them which, though Roman, had long been subject to the Triballian. ^B When the Triballian, who was governor of that province at that time and was under arms, found this out, he overwhelmed the Emperor Matthew with the force of his troops, and Matthew himself was captured alive, and almost everyone with him was captured as well, those who had not been slain by the sword in the battle. Upon hearing this, the Emperor set out from Lesbos, where at that time he was resting his naval forces and preparing and organizing matters for the siege of the Phocaeans, and with sails spread he descended to the harbors around Abdera. From there he sent envoys to the Triballian who held Matthew captive, and having entered into a mutual friendship and given no small sum of money, he received him. He sent him as a prisoner to the island of Tenedos together with his wife, but committed the children to be guarded by his sister’s husband, Latinus, who at that time was governing the island of Lesbos. ^C For the Emperor had earlier captured by war the city of Gratianopolis, where Matthew’s wife lived with her children. There, upon finding many letters sent secretly to Matthew by the Byzantines before he had been captured, which testified to their goodwill and affection for him, and [revealing] all the treacherous plots they were hatching against Palaeologus—the Emperor, pretending that he had some other business in hand for his own benefit, changed his course. He changed his attire to something more private, and escaping the notice of all his household, he hastened to Byzantium with a single trireme. And he was not recognized by any of the Byzantines until he had entered the palace and greeted the Empress in his private guise. When Hyrcanus, the satrap of the barbarians of Bithynia, learned of these things, he urged him on with more frequent embassies to hasten his return for the sake of his son’s liberation, lest his own delay result in the cause of new troubles and disorder among the Romans. ^D The Emperor, therefore, having suppressed the troubles in Byzantium as much as he could beyond everyone’s expectation, within forty days returned with the single trireme as quickly as possible. But before he had returned, he saw the Roman fleet sailing toward Byzantium, and this was without any order from him, so that they had almost deserted their station, having broken all the royal bonds of their commission. They pretended, however, that they were forced by necessity to return from Tenedos to Byzantium due to a lack of supplies, and that they could no longer keep the fleet together without the Emperor. The Emperor, therefore, being angry,

and having reprimanded the admirals as was fitting in a few words (for the shortness of the time did not allow for any lengthy discourse), he pressed on with his intended business, taking with him only two moniremes to accompany the royal flagship. ^A And when he had arrived at Proconnesus, he decided to send a signal of friendship to Hyrcanus from there, in order to reconcile his heart, which had already turned to suspicions of treachery, back to himself again, and that by action, not by word, he might demonstrate that the imperial mind was sincere and that no deceit had intervened in the expedition. Afterward, he arrived first at Tenedos with full sails, intending to deliberate there at his leisure concerning the son of Hyrcanus and the ransom money to be given to the Phocaeans for him, as well as ^B concerning his brother-in-law Matthew, who was being kept in custody in the citadel of the Tenedians, and on whose account a secret rebellion was being instigated, and concerning all that it was necessary to do in these matters.

XVII. These things, then, proceeded in this way, and with them the autumn came to an end. Now, however, as I have reached this point, I wish to make a moderate recapitulation of those things said to you above concerning the disputes of Palamas against us, so that we may not, by letting that chain of argument wander too far from our memory, inadvertently lose the things most necessary for the dogmatic subject under consideration.