Second Invective Against Julian the Emperor

I have ^A sufficiently demonstrated the man's wickedness in what he performed against us, and in what he was likely to do, for he was always contemplating something weightier than the present troubles. Now, however, we shall set before ourselves another aim for our discourse, to which I do not know if anyone has yet reached; one more sacred before God, more pleasing to us, and even more useful to posterity. This is to add to the things already said those just scales of God, and those things by which wickedness is counterbalanced—meeting some immediately, and others a little later—as it seems good, I suppose, to the Craftsman Word, the steward of our affairs, who knows how to check calamity with mercy, and to discipline audacity with ignominy and scourges, by whatever measures of instruction He himself knows.

^B II. For who could adequately describe and exaggerate, according to their dignity, the deserved diseases, and the by no means obscure bodily corruptions of the impious, and the manifold other blows and scourges congruent to their crimes, and the deaths that occurred in a manner not customary, and the confessions and useless repentances held within the very terrors themselves, and the lessons learned through dreams, and the visions seen while awake? And how many things met those who dared such deeds—whether they sinned against the holy houses, or insulted the holy tables, or in madness defiled the mystical vessels, or with a certain impudence filled their bellies with our bodies, or performed any other sort of crime—as manifest and visible signs of the wrath of God against such men? I shall, indeed, willingly pass over these things, not because I disbelieve in the things that are seen and spoken of, ^C nor because I attribute what occurs to some random impulse and chance, as do those who casually assume such things to be the case, but so that I may not appear to be wasting my time on minor matters, having passed over the greater and more famous ones. I am coming, therefore, to relate the miracle that is on everyone’s lips, which does not lack belief even among those who think there is no God.

III. He raged against us day by day ever more vehemently, not otherwise than as one raising wave upon wave, he himself the first...

^A to have been driven mad and to have trampled upon holy things, and to have insulted the Spirit of grace. We might more appositely call him Jeroboam, or Ahab the Israelite, that most lawless of men, or that Egyptian Pharaoh, or the Assyrian Nebuchadnezzar, or rather, bringing all these together, we shall call him by one and the same name; since it is evident that he gathered into himself the vices of them all—the defection of Jeroboam, the credulity of Ahab, the hardness of Pharaoh, the sacrilege of Nebuchadnezzar, and, in short, the impiety of all of them combined. And when he had run through all the rest, and had despised every kind of tyranny and cruelty against us as being some petty and ignoble thing (for never was there a nature more fertile and rich than his in the invention and contrivance of evils), at last he let loose even the Jewish nation against us, taking advantage of their ancient fickleness and the hatred of us that had long been smoldering in their hearts, to serve as helpers in the scheme he was working toward; claiming that it was fated by the books and secret writings in their possession that they should now return to their own land, rebuild the temple, and renew the authority of their ancestral rites—masking his design under a pretense of benevolence.

^B IV. But when he had conceived these things in his mind and had persuaded them (for it is easy to practice imposture upon those who enjoy what they hear), they prepared themselves for the construction of the temple, and applied themselves to the work with much effort, and with alacrity of spirit and labor. For those who admire their affairs relate that their wives not only readily stripped off all their matronly adornments and bodily finery to contribute to the work and help those who were laboring, but were also of such a mind that, as they carried out the earth in their bosoms, not sparing their splendid and exquisite garments, nor their tender limbs, they considered themselves to be performing a duty of piety, and held everything else to be inferior to this undertaking. But when, by a fierce whirlwind and a sudden agitation of the seething earth, they were all at once driven back, they made their way to a nearby temple, some for the sake of prayer, others—as is wont to happen in such matters—using it as a refuge from the danger that presented itself, and others still being swept along by the turmoil and rushing in with those who were running; there are some who say that the temple did not even receive them, but that when they approached the gates, they found them closed ^C by some invisible and unseen power, which works such wonders against the impiety of the wicked ^D.

^A Yet all now both say and believe that when they were forcing their way and striving to enter, fire stood forth from the temple to meet them; some it consumed and destroyed (so that something similar happened to them as to the Sodomites, or the miracle regarding Nadab and Abihu, who strangely offered incense and were put in danger), while others it mutilated in their vital parts, leaving them as a living column to warn of God’s threat and agitation against sinners. This is indeed how it was, and let no one be faithless, for one should not be faithless regarding the other powers of God either. But what is even more paradoxical and manifest than this is that a light stood in the sky ^B describing a cross, and the symbol and name which before on earth were despised by the godless are now shown in the heavens equally to all, becoming a trophy for God of the victory against the impious, more exalted than any other trophy.

V.

^A VI. And so let these things be said by me concerning the heavenly and supernal powers, which, in accordance with the great harmony and affinity that shines forth in the universe, sympathize with our affairs. As for what follows, let the Psalmist now fulfill it for me: "You have destroyed cities" (like those of old for the same impieties), amidst those very iniquities which they were using against us; some were engulfed by the seas, others were brought down and overturned by earthquakes, so that I might almost say what remains of them: "Their memorial has perished with a sound," and with a manifest and famous destruction. For so great is their ruin and so great their shattering, both of them and of those that are adjacent, especially those that take delight in impiety, that if anyone were even to attempt their restoration, it would require a long time for that task.

^B VII. Now, these were the portents of the earth and the sky; but did the air, at such a time, display nothing remarkable, nor was it then sanctified by the signs of the passion of Christ? Let them bring forward even now their garments—those who were spectators and witnesses of that miracle—those, I say, which were then branded and marked with the signs of the cross. For as soon as someone, whether of our own people or of the outsiders, recounted these things, or heard them being recounted, he would immediately perceive this miracle either in himself or in his neighbor—himself being star-speckled and distinguished by marks, or seeing the other like that in his garments, surpassing all elegance of the weaver's art or any painting fashioned with the greatest care in variety. This matter struck the minds of those who saw it with such amazement that nearly everyone, as if by a single signal and with one voice, invoked the God of the Christians and strove to appease Him with many praises and prayers. Many, too, not putting the matter off, but at that very time when these things occurred, hastened to our priests, and after offering many prayers, were admitted into the Church and initiated into the more sublime mysteries, purified by the holy baptism, and having derived profit from fear.

^C VIII. Thus, indeed, matters stood. Julian, however, pricked and agitated by the gadfly of his gradually worsening madness, at last arrived at the very head of his own calamities. For as he supposed that the affairs of the Christians were proceeding according to his own desire, and from those things which he had already accomplished, [he imagined that all was capturable].

^A Having snatched at a certain success against the Western barbarians, he thought of this one plan, most wise and most humane: raising a twofold army from here—the one of soldiers, the other of the demons who led him, and on whose aid he relied more heavily—he set out on an expedition against the Persians, trusting in the rashness of recklessness rather than in the security of strength. And even that, the "wisest" man was unable to perceive: that confidence and recklessness, even if they draw close in name, are worlds apart in power, just as we say courage and cowardice are. For to be confident in daring matters is a mark of courage, just as to yield is a mark of cowardice; but where the danger is greater, to go to meet it and to press forward, rather than to be restrained, is a mark of recklessness, just as to withdraw is a mark of security. And one should not place in the same category the guarding of what one has and the addition of something one does not have; for the former must be honored by those who have sense, primarily and above all; the latter, if it exists with ease, is to be accepted, but if it opposes itself, it is to be disregarded. But he who risks all his existing possessions to acquire some of his hoped-for ones is exceedingly foolish. And to me he seems to resemble a boxer unskilled in his art, who, before he has established his stance well, puts forward ^B or a helmsman whose ship is coming apart and is not fit for sailing, who [is either sinking] a hostile ship or is intent on sinking one. Considering none of these things, he initiated his plans thoughtlessly, while the Roman state was, as it were, still in labor and in a bad state, especially because of the persecution he had stirred up, yet he was dreaming of foreign lands; he was like a certain Salmoneus, imitating thunder with leather, looking toward those Trajans and those Hadrians, whose security and prudence were no less a source of admiration than their bravery. He did not think of that Carus, nor of that Valerian, who paid the penalty for an unreasoning impulse—lest, as the tragedy says, I reproach their fortunes—being cut down in the land of the Persians, in the very prime of their success.

IX

^A uniting them into one, in order that it might all be destroyed in a short time. And what a great and supernatural expiation, O Christ, and Word, and passion of the Impassible, and mystery of the whole world! To subject the entire race of Christians to demons, should he gain his intended objective. Now his initial attempts at the enterprise were indeed exceedingly bold, and are celebrated with loud voices by many of those who favor his side, being of this sort: For when he had captured and devastated that whole part of Assyria which the Euphrates, flowing through and passing along Persis, joins with the Tigris, and had demolished several fortresses destitute of any garrison—whether because he had eluded the Persians by the speed of his incursion, or because he was being led by them intentionally and gradually enticed to proceed further (for both is said)—thus then having advanced, with the army marching at his side, and with the ships carrying the grain and supplies along the river, after a few days he pitched camp at Ctesiphon; of which city he was possessed by such a great desire that he thought that coming near to it was a part of the victory.

X. From this point on, however, as if the sand were snatched from under one’s feet, or as if a storm had dashed against a ship, matters for him flow backward. For Ctesiphon is a fortress strong and difficult to capture, fortified by a wall of baked brick, by a deep trench, and by the marshes from the river. And another fortress, which they call Cochen, renders it still stronger, constructed with equal protection of both nature and art, so joined to the other fortress that both present the appearance of only one city, since they are divided from each other only by the separation of the river. When he could neither take them by a sudden incursion and assault, nor capture and reduce them to his power by siege, nor yet proceed further with his army, and especially with his naval forces (for there was a danger that he might be assailed from a higher position by missiles from both sides and be prevented from crossing), he finally leaves them behind him in this way: For after having breached a not insignificant part of the Euphrates, the greatest of all rivers, and having diverted so much of it through a certain trench (of which they say that ancient traces even exist) that it might be sufficient for carrying the ships, and having united this a little further up ^B with the Tigris, thus at last he saves the ships, safely transported from river to river. Thus then— ^{C D}

^A he escaped the danger of those encampments. But as the Persian forces appeared to those advancing and increased daily, they began to hold to a manner of waging war such that they decided they must by no means stand against them in open battle, nor, when they might win by an abundance of troops, venture the hazard of a fight unless compelled by great necessity; but rather, from the hills and narrow places, where opportunity was given, they should shoot at the enemy with arrows, and having occupied the most opportune passages of the way, they would easily check them, preventing them from proceeding any further: then, indeed, he was in great anxiety of mind; and having nowhere to turn, he finally encountered the wretched outcome of his counsel.

XI. For a certain man among the Persians, not ignoble, ^B having imitated the deed of that Zopyrus toward Cyrus during the siege of Babylon, as if he had come into most serious disgrace with the Persian king for some very grave reasons—or rather having greatly offended him in the greatest matters—and being on that account most hostile to the king's interests, but friendly to the Roman cause, and having thus gained credibility through his pretense, said: "What is this, Emperor? Why do you deliberate so foolishly about a matter of such importance? What is this nautical food-supply of yours, and this superfluous burden, this tutor of cowardice? For nothing is so difficult to fight, and nothing so stubborn, as the belly, and the holding of one's hope of safety in one's own hands. ^C Wherefore, if you will listen to me, you will order this naval apparatus to depart, along with the languor it brings back to this most valiant army: you, however, will make your incursion into the enemy's land by a way easier and safer, of which I promise to be your guide—for I am as skilled in the Persian region as any other—and having accomplished things according to your desire, you will prepare for your return. For you will then at last confer a favor upon me, when you have taken proof by the event itself of my benevolence toward you and of my counsel."

XII. When he had said these things, and by saying them had persuaded him—for levity is credulous, ^D and especially when God was driving the impious man on—the army began to be pressed by all hardships at once. The ships were burning with fire, there was no grain, and to top it off, mockery was added; for it was almost the same as if one had laid hands upon himself and brought about his own destruction. All hopes had vanished, and the guide of the journey had departed with his promises. Furthermore, the enemies were pressing in on every side, and the war flowed around them: movement forward was not easy, provisions were hard to obtain; the army was languishing and had collapsed in spirit, and was inflamed against the emperor: there remained no hope of anything good.

XIII. Concerning what has happened so far

^A Certainly, the universe received a salutary wound, and by a single incision he paid the penalty for many viscera in which he had wrongly trusted. And I wonder at this, too: how a vain man who thought he knew everything else from this source, was ignorant of this one thing—that he was about to inflict a wound upon his own vitals.

XIV. But we must not pass over this fact either, which provides the greatest proof of his lost madness, beyond many other things. He lay upon the bank of the river, suffering gravely from his wound. Since he knew that many people before his time who had achieved glory were thought to be more than mortal, having concealed themselves from the eyes of men by certain arts, and for that reason were held to be gods, he was seized by a desire for this same glory. And at the same time, because he was ashamed of the manner of his death on account of the infamy of his recklessness, what does he plot? What does he do? For wickedness is not extinguished along with life. He attempts to throw his body into the flowing river, and for this purpose he employed the help of some of his trusted confidants who were privy to his secrets. And had not one of the imperial eunuchs, having perceived the matter and made it known to others, out of hatred and detestation for such a crime prevented this attempt, surely another new god would have arisen from this calamity for foolish men. And he, having thus discharged his rule and administered the war, thus also departs from life.

XV. But immediately after his death ^B the one who succeeded to the empire—he who, in the camp itself and in the very flame of dangers that necessarily required a leader, had been proclaimed—was a man distinguished and famous both in other respects and in piety, and gifted with a majesty of countenance truly worthy of the throne. Since he was in no way able to join battle with the Persians, nor to advance, although he lacked nothing in courage and zeal, because the army had lost both its hands and its hopes, he sought a retreat, and was considering how he might achieve it safely, having become the heir not of an empire, but of a defeat. And if ^C the Persians, moderating themselves in their victory (for this is their custom, to apply moderation in prosperity), or fearing something else among the things rumored, had not turned to entering into treaties—and such unexpected and humane ones at that—not even a “fire-bearer,” as the saying goes, would have survived for the army. So much did the Persians have them within their grasp, both by fighting on their own land and by being emboldened ^D by the events that had occurred; for it is enough to obtain something of success, even in the hope of the future.

But now, as I have already said, he was wholly concerned with saving the army and leaving behind the sinews for the Romans; for they were truly sinews, even if they had fared badly, owing more to the rashness of their commander than to their own cowardice. The Persians, however, made a treaty on conditions that were indeed shameful and unworthy of the Roman hand—to speak most briefly—and if anyone, while letting that man off from the responsibility, were to blame this one, he is, in my judgment, a very unfair judge of the events that occurred at that time. For the ear of corn does not belong to the one who harvested, but to the one who sowed; nor should the fire be assigned to him who could not extinguish it, but to him who ignited it. And it would be appropriate to use the saying of Herodotus regarding the tyranny of the Samians: “This shoe Histiaeus indeed stitched, but Aristagoras put it on,” he who succeeded to the affairs of his predecessor. ^B

XVI. What remained, except that the corpse of the impious one should be brought back to the Romans, even if he had thus departed from the living? But since we also have the lifeless body—this one, I mean, who departed from life before him—let us here also see the difference between the two emperors, if this too contributes anything to the happiness or unhappiness of those who have departed. The one, indeed, is escorted with public proclamations and auspicious cheers and processions, and even with these customs of ours—that is, with all-night canticles and torches, with which we Christians think a pious departure from life should be honored. And the translation of the body has with it a celebrity joined with mourning. ^C But if the account is credible to anyone—and this too has been spread abroad in the ears of many—that when the body was crossing the Taurus range to be brought to his ancestral city, the one, I mean, which bears their name and is most renowned, a certain voice was heard by some from the heights, as if of those chanting and accompanying—angelic powers, I suppose—a reward for his piety and an epitaph in return. For even if he seemed to disturb the true faith, yet even this ^D

this crime is to be attributed to the obtrusiveness of the nobles and the perversity of their faith, who, finding a soul that was simple and insufficiently firm in piety, and not foreseeing the precipices, led it away wherever they pleased, and under the pretext of stricter doctrine, turned its zeal into vice.

17 XVII. But as for us, considering both the father, by whom the foundations of imperial power and faith were laid for Christianity ^A, and also the inheritance of the faith devolved upon the son ^B, thinking of him who had always lived justly in his sovereignty, and had ended his life with a holy conclusion, and had left the empire to us—we honored the tabernacle, as was proper. But as it approached more closely to the great and imperial city, what need is there to speak of the escort of the whole army, and the ranks of armed men—presenting themselves to the emperor as if he were still enjoying the use of life—or of the pouring forth of the glorious city, the most celebrated of all that have ever existed or will exist? Yet that bold and noble one ^C, adorned with his new purple, and for that reason, as is natural, feeling very grand, becomes himself also a participant of that funeral honor, returning and receiving the same favor—partly under duress and necessity, partly of his own will, as rumor has it. For the whole army, even if it submitted to the present government, all the more granted honor to the departed (since it is our nature to be somehow more favorably disposed to those [whose passing is] still fresh in our griefs, and we are moved by affection and attach pity to the deceased), and for this reason, not bearing that he should not be honored as an emperor ^D, they persuade the apostate, and compel him to meet the corpse with the appropriate demeanor; and this was: having removed the diadem from his head, and having bowed down before the emperor as was fitting, thus to accompany him to the tomb with those carrying him, and to the venerable shrine of the Apostles, who have themselves received and protect the holy race, performing almost equal honors [with those who did so before him].

Such was our emperor’s funeral.

^B XVIII. In contrast, while his expedition was shameful and foul (for it was agitated by peoples and cities, and by public and scurrilous voices, which many still remember even now), his return was even more shameful and disgraceful. And what was this disgrace? Mimes and actors led him along, assailing him with insults drawn from the stage and with mockeries, and reproaching him with his abjuration of the faith, his defeat, and the end of his life. For what did they not do or say—those things that men of that sort, who make impudence their art, are accustomed to perpetrate—until at last the city of Tarsus received him, I know not how, or for what reason, affected by this outrage? Here he has an ignoble shrine, an impure tomb, and a temple to be cursed, and not even to be looked upon by the eyes of the pious.

XIX. I have summarized these things as the greatest and most serious of his crimes, not being ignorant that to two or three court flatterers, his equals in impiety (for I omit the others by design), such a reward for their impiety was given that nothing seemed likely to prevent them, within a short time, from plundering all the lands and seas subject to the Roman empire, had not a speedier end been granted to those affairs. To such a degree did they surpass those ancient hundred-handed giants in robbery and greed. Furthermore, the governance of provinces was entrusted not to the best and most moderate men, but to the most cruel; and there was but one vote for obtaining any honor or dignity: defection from the faith; and so they obtained their gifts from him, having consulted most wretchedly for themselves.

XX. Why need I mention the changes and twistings of lawsuits, which were frequently altered and overturned in the space of a single night, no differently than the ebb and flow of the tides; seeing that this noble man also desired to judge cases, obviously claiming everything for himself out of a desire for glory? Perhaps I may seem to be collecting small and very trivial crimes, and to treat the greatest with small matters of disgrace. Yet this must be admitted: that these things are by no means worthy of the Elysian Fields, nor of the fame of Rhadamanthus in that place, to which those hundred-handed ones deem him to belong.

^A One thing regarding him I find worthy of admiration: for many of those who were his acquaintances and intimates—especially from his training in the Asian schools—he would summon with great eagerness, as if he were about to bestow upon them marvelous things, appearing to buoy them up with hopes as they remembered his promises. But when they arrived, he would treat them to—well, let us call them—tricks of the ballot-box and deceptions of the eyes; mocking some in one way, others in another; even entertaining some at his table with a show of friendship, and with much "My companion!" and offering of wine, and crying out in a loud, forced voice ^B—instead of any other kind of lure—he would send them away empty-handed, leaving them unable to determine whether they should blame his fraudulence more, or their own fickleness.

XXI. But how is it not praiseworthy in the education of this philosopher, that he was so free from anger and so much above the turbulent passions of the mind? Just like those kings and emperors of old who once flourished in the praise of tranquility and self-control, and who, even if some trouble befell them, changed not their countenance in any way, nor showed any trace of perturbation—so that, while he performed the office of judge, he would fill the hall with shouting and clamor, not otherwise than if he himself were the one to whom force and injury were being offered, rather than coming to the aid of those who were actually suffering these things? These matters we shall not even deem worthy of a speech. But who among all is ignorant of the fact that, to those from among even the more rustic people who approached him publicly to obtain any of the things that common folk usually seek from emperors, he would deal so harshly—striking them openly with his fist, and assailing them with kicks—that they deemed it a great thing to have been treated no worse?

^C XXII. And those puffings and counter-puffings, which that admirable man—that detractor of our doctrines—would demonstrate to old women in opposition, by lighting the altar-fire, where in my discourse shall I place them? For truly it was a splendid thing to behold the cheeks of the Roman emperor indecently swelling and provoking immense laughter, not only among outsiders, but even among those to whom he thought he was pleasing by doing these things. Yet he did not heed Athena, his own goddess, who is said to have cursed the flutes after she perceived, having used the water in place of a mirror, that they were a disgrace to her. Regarding the toasts and... ^D

cups with which he openly and publicly provoked prostitutes, and was in turn provoked by them, veiling his petulant lust under the pretense of a mystery, who would not find him worthy of wonder ^A?

XXIII. These things experience itself and a power that had acquired license made clear to others, but to me they were in a certain manner foreseen long before, from the time when I was with him at Athens. For he came there also, immediately after the events that had been plotted against his brother, having begged the emperor for this very thing. He had a twofold reason for his arriving there: one, the more honorable, to visit Greece and its schools; the other, more hidden and known to few, to consult the soothsayers and impostors of that region who were there regarding his own affairs, since his impiety had not yet acquired freedom and confidence. At that time, therefore, I remember that I was no poor judge of this man, although I am not one of those well-endowed in such matters. But the instability of his character and gait, and a certain immense agitation of his mind, made a prophet of me; for he is the best prophet who knows how to conjecture rightly. For there appeared to me no sign of a good man: a neck not firm, shoulders which he kept moving and shrugging, an eye wandering and rolling and looking insane, feet unstable and faltering, a nose breathing arrogance and contempt, ridiculous facial contortions ^B that betokened the same, unbridled and boiling laughter, nods and shakes of the head without any reason, speech that was hesitant and broken by panting, questions disorderly and foolish, answers no better than these, encroaching upon one another and not steady, nor proceeding by the order of learning.

XXIV. Why is there need to describe each detail? Such as I saw him before his deeds, such he also appeared in his deeds ^C, soon after the slaughter of his brother, when he had answered the charges brought against him before the Emperor Constantius at Milan. ^D

I recognized them. And if any of those who were present then and heard me were here, they would not find it difficult to bear witness. When I saw these things, I spoke out at once: "What an evil the Roman Empire is fostering!" and I foretold these events, and prayed that I might become a false prophet unto myself. ^A For it would have been better for the world to be filled with evils other than these, and for no such monster to have appeared, such as had never been seen before; even though, besides this, many deluges are spoken of, and many conflagrations, and upheavals of the earth, and chasms; and furthermore, most inhuman men, and strange and compound beasts, which nature has brought forth in some new fashion. For this reason, he eventually met a fitting end for his madness; for it is only here that God could no longer endure his accustomed long-suffering, since His forbearance would have been pernicious to many, and was destined to bring much despondency to those who live righteously, and much contempt and insolence to those who sin, as if no one were looking upon our affairs, nor was there any governance or retribution, but that the whole world was carried and revolved by chance; which is the mark of an evil mind, and one that is most precariously disposed concerning the greatest matters.

XXV.

^A combatants? Where are those threatenings against the Christians, and those menaces, and that foretold destruction of us down to our very name? All has vanished, all has been proven false, all has melted away; the boastings of the impious have appeared as a dream.

XXVI. And yet, Hezekiah, king of Judah, when a certain king of the foreigners had come against him with a great force and had encircled Jerusalem with an army, and had bitterly cast forth impious and insulting words both against the king and against God Himself—as if, whatsoever he might undertake, the city could in no wise be snatched from his hands and power—he betook himself to the temple; and with garments rent, and a great flood of tears poured forth, and hands stretched out to heaven, he called God as witness ^B to the blasphemy of Sennacherib, and entreated that He be the avenger of the arrogance of those who threatened, saying: "Thou hast seen, Lord, how many reproaches this foreigner has cast at Thee, the God of Israel. Thou hast seen, Lord, do not be silent." And he was not deceived in his petition; but that impious enemy of God perceived his own madness and fury in the very event, and departed unsuccessful with his threats, by the sudden onrush of a certain invisible power; and having lost the greater part of his army, and having withdrawn with bitter news, he unexpectedly broke both the siege and his hopes. This did Hezekiah, who was clothed with great power, that king of the great Jerusalem, who perhaps even by his own strength ^C might have pushed back and repelled the enemy. But we, for whom the only weapon, and wall, and bulwark, and defense is hope in God, being utterly destitute and shorn of all human assistance—whom else were we to have as a listener to our prayers, or as a repeller of threats, than God, who swears against the pride of Jacob? Oh, for stories that defy belief! Oh, for the ^D of those whose hopes…

[alt-version omitted]

"who swears against the pride of Jacob?" that is, or him who swears by Jacob. In whom, moreover? In Him who stands above all and is seen above all, God; or God who swears by the faith and greatness of Jacob, as Jacob himself says, not swearing by demons, but by God, etc. Which interpretation of Basil’s, if perhaps it is less according to the mind of Gregory, certainly approaches the sense of Scripture. For by "the pride of Jacob" is usually meant excellence, loftiness, glory, magnificence, as may be seen in very many places in Scripture, and especially in this passage of Amos VIII, 7, in which by the Hebrew word which the Prophet uses, is understood the singular glory of the Israelites, who were the inheritance and peculiar possession of God, according to that of the Psalm (XLVI, 4): "He chose for us His inheritance, the beauty of Jacob which He loved." Others interpret this as God Himself or the temple. Gregory, however, seems to wish for this: that God detests the pride of the impious against Jacob. What, however, if for "swearing," one should understand "he who aids, who avenges"?

^A incredible narrations! O the recklessness of the things conceived in your mind! We had been promised to the demons, as if we were some other victim, and that great inheritance of God, that holy nation, that royal priesthood, we had become the prize of one hope and the trophy of one war.

XXVII. Did you, then, bring these rewards to the Christians in return for having been saved by them, and thus badly requited the Lord your God? Now, previously, while God was still restraining and delaying His wrath on our behalf, and had not yet set aflame all His zeal—but still held His hand high against the wicked, and while He bent and made ready His bow, He yet held it back by force, and, like some festering and malignant disease waiting for the whole of its wickedness to erupt, He awaited—as is indeed the law of God’s judgment, that He may either save through repentance or punish with a more righteous title—at that time, being vexed at what was taking place and faint-hearted ^B regarding the future (for we could not endure the kindness of His which was hidden from those who belonged to Him), we were sending forth to God such cries as these: partly calling upon Him as Lord, partly lamenting before a kind and gentle Father, and partly, as it were, reproaching and reasoning with Him, as those who are in pain are accustomed to do: "Why, O God, hast Thou cast us off unto the end? Shall Thy fury be kindled against the sheep of Thy pasture? And be mindful of Thy congregation, which Thou hast acquired from the beginning, which Thou didst procure by the sufferings of Thine only-begotten Word, which Thou didst deem worthy of Thy great covenant, which Thou didst even draw up to the heavens ^C through the new mystery and through the earnest of the Spirit." And again: "Lift up Thy hands against their pride unto the end," reminding Him of how much the enemies had acted wickedly against Thy saints and had boasted against Thy festivals. We were even invoking the sword and the Egyptian plagues, and we were asking Him to judge His own cause, and finally to arise at length against the wicked, saying: "How long, O Lord, how long shall sinners boast, and shall they humble Thy people, and afflict Thy inheritance, and speak and commit iniquity?" Nay, we were even offering those mournful cries, and ones more suited than the preceding to these ^D things: "Thou hast made us a contradiction and a reproach to our neighbors, in the likeness...

of things to the nations, and a laughingstock to all men." We spoke also of a certain vine, brought over from Egypt—that is, from darkened impiety—and grown to the beauty and magnitude of faith; then stripped of its hedge—that is, the inspection of God, by which we were previously guarded—and exposed as prey to all passers-by, that is, to wicked princes; and ravaged by a wild and savage boar, which made malice its own, and is singularly filled with the mire of wickedness. ^B

XXVIII. These things I did indeed previously both ponder and cry out to God. But now, what different voices I assume! I henceforth lament the destruction of the impious, and I show myself kind to those who hate us, and I use such words as these: "How are they become a desolation? Suddenly they have failed, they have perished because of their iniquity," as dust which a whirlwind has carried off, as chaff which is scattered by the wind, as the morning dew, as the rush of a shot arrow, as the onset of thunder, as lightning that strikes. If indeed they should now change their minds and turn to a better way of thinking, and, putting an end to their vast error and intoxication, pursue the truth, perhaps some profit might come to them from that very calamity; for chastisement itself is often to the advantage and benefit of those who are afflicted by some evil. But if they should remain in the same frame of mind and still embrace the worship of idols, they will not become better even by the calamity itself, which is accustomed to instruct even the foolish. Jeremiah, indeed, laments Jerusalem to such a degree that he commands even inanimate objects to mourn, and calls upon the walls to weep. But for these, what lamentation shall be found worthy? Or who would weep for their present sufferings, and not rather lament the future torment, because they acted foolishly, and wandered far away, and worshipped the creature rather than the Creator; and not content with this, they even made an assault against the worshippers of God, and raised an impious hand, worthy of such evils? ^C

XXIX. Now, as to this, let it be as is pleasing to God. Who knows whether God, who looses the prisoners, and lifts from the gates of death him who is burdened and bowing to the ground, who does not desire the death of the sinner, but his return—who also illumined and instructed us who were sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death—will at last also take up these and shepherd [them].

^A And will he lay aside that heavy and iron rod? But as for me, my discourse shall run back again to the same song of triumph: *Bel has fallen, Dagon is broken in pieces, Saron has become a marsh, Libanus has been put to shame.* They shall no longer say to the fool that he is a prince, that is, to the motionless and senseless army of idols; nor shall they seek after the fly, the god Acharon, or anything else more ridiculous than this. They shall no longer wander through the groves and high places, and every leafy and shady mountain; they shall no longer sacrifice their sons and daughters to demons, as Israel of old was reproached by the prophets. But what are these things to me? I will turn to present matters and to our own affairs. They shall no longer cast evil eyes upon our holy houses; they shall no longer defile with filthy blood the altars that bear the name of the most pure and unbloody ^B sacrifice; nor shall they shame the inviolable places with godless altars. They shall no longer plunder and profane votive offerings, mixing avarice with impiety; they shall no longer insult the gray hair of priests, the sanctity of deacons, the modesty of virgins; they shall no longer cast the filth of swine into the viscera of slaughtered saints, that they might be gorged at once with fodder and with entrails; they shall no longer bring fire to the tombs of martyrs, as if suppressing the struggle of others by insults against them; they shall no longer consume the remains of the saints with fire, having mixed them in contempt with the vilest bones, and give them to the winds, that they might deprive them of the honor which is owed to such persons; they shall no longer, by constructing a seat of pestilence, delight in ^C blasphemies against bishops and presbyters, and even against prophets and apostles, and Christ himself, casting these out as delicacies; they shall no longer celebrate festivals against us, excluding us by the interdict of a law stemming from adulterous doctrine, as though they were thereby stopping our tongues as well.

XXX.

and the strain of your instruments, just as my ^A prophet exhorts you. David, however, let him sing freely again—he, I say, who struck down that lofty and arrogant Goliath with mystical stones, who conquered many through gentleness, and who, through spiritual harmony, provided medicine for Saul when he was being choked by a wicked demon. ^B Let your torchbearer extinguish his fire; let the prudent and holy virgins light their lamps for the Bridegroom. Let the hierophant put off his harlot’s garment; priests, instead of the spirit of sloth, put on the stole of justice and glory, and that great and spotless tunic of Christ, our beauty and ornament.

XXXI. Let your herald be silent about shameful and obscene things; let my herald speak of divine things. Suppress your deceitful and fatidical books; let only the prophetic and apostolic ones be unrolled. Restrain your foul nights filled with darkness; I, in contrast, will arouse holy and brilliant all-night vigils. Block up your shrines and the paths leading to Tartarus; I will lead the way in paths that are clear and lead toward heaven. How many armaments of war, pray, and how many inventions of siege-engines; how many myriads of men and battalions could have accomplished those things which we achieved by prayers alone, and which God brought to pass by His will? By His Word He dispelled darkness, by His Word He brought forth light, made firm the earth, vaulted the heavens, arranged the stars in order, spread abroad the air, set boundaries for the sea, drew forth rivers, gave life and soul to living creatures, fashioned man after His own image, and surrounded all things with adornment: by His Word, also, having dissolved the present darkness, He brought all things back into light and order and that same harmony. No longer do greedy and fraudulent demons hold power over things; no longer, under the guise of honor, is insult offered to creation while it is worshipped in place of God. Throw down now your Triptolemuses, and your Celeuses, and your mystical dragons. Be ashamed at last of the books of Orpheus, your theologian; use the benefit of the time, which covers over your shame. But if these are fables and inventions, I shall uncover the mysteries of your night.

XXXII. No longer does the oak speak; no longer does the cauldron prophesy; no longer is the Pythia filled—I know not with what—certainly with fables and ravings. Again ^C Castalia is silenced and is silent, and it is water that does not deliver oracles, but excites laughter; again the statue of Apollo is speechless; again Daphne is a tree lamented in ^D fables.

^A Again the androgynous Bacchus, dragging along the chorus of the drunken, and thy great mystery, the Phallus, and a god prone to passion for the fair Prosymnus; again Semele is struck by the thunderbolt; again club-footed Vulcan, yet swift in the detection of adulterers, and a god begrimed with soot, though a famous craftsman, and an Olympian Thersites; again Mars, shackled for adultery with Panic and Fear and the din of battle, and wounded because of his rashness; again Venus, a harlot both in her shameful origins and as a minister of shameful marriages; again Minerva is a virgin, and brings forth a dragon; again Hercules is mad, or rather, has ceased from his madness; ^B again Jupiter becomes everything for the sake of lust and uncleanness, he, I say, the counselor and prince of the gods, and one having such power that he alone draws all the gods upward with all existing things, yet he himself is not drawn down by any of them. Again, the tomb of Zeus is pointed out in Crete. As often as I see thy "Lucrius" (God of Gain), and "Logius" (God of Eloquence), and "Enagonius" (God of the Games), I cover my eyes and pass by thy god out of shame for the spectacle; but as for thee, thou art free to worship the contention of speech and the sacred purse. The only thing in thy rites that merits veneration is the honors which are paid ^C by the Egyptians to the Nile through androgynes, and the Isides, and the Mendesian gods, and the Apises, and all the rest of those composite and outlandish beasts which thou inventest or writest about. I laugh at thy Pan, and thy Priapus, and thy Hermaphroditus, and those gods mutilated or mangled by madness. But these things I shall leave to the stage and to the poets who adorn them; I, however, shall bring my discourse to a close with an exhortation. ^D

XXXIII. Men and women together, young and old, as many of you as have been admitted to this sanctuary, and as many of you as occupy the lower ground, all of you, in short, whom the Lord has redeemed—formerly from error and impiety, and now from the insults and oppression of the nations, and from the evils already present and those to be expected—hearken to the speech of a man who has been not moderately instructed in such matters, both from the events that occur daily and from the histories of old, and from books, and from deeds. It is indeed a great thing to have tasted of no hardships; yet perhaps it is not even a great thing, if this saying is true, that "whom the Lord loves He disciplines, and scourges every son whom He receives, and of whom He takes care." But it is truly a great thing not to have failed at the very beginning, or not to...

^A have touched even the beginnings of sin, since God has appointed a state of life entirely free from sin as something above human nature. The next best thing, as it seems to me, is that when we have been chastised for some committed sin, and have been subsequently released and treated with greater indulgence, we should at least remain within the awareness of the discipline, and avoid a second scourge for a second sin.

XXXIV. Therefore, let us also seriously acknowledge the divine chastisement. Let us show ourselves worthy, not of what we suffered at first, but of what we have obtained afterward. Let us offer some apology regarding the calamity that has seized us, namely, that we were not handed over to the nations as criminals and wicked men, but were disciplined as sons. Let us not forget the storm in the calm, nor the disease in health, nor the captivity now that we have returned safely to Jerusalem, nor Egypt after Egypt. Let us not make the time of affliction better than the time of tranquility; and we would indeed do so if, while we were formerly humble and moderate, and had all our hopes raised toward heaven, we ^B now become puffed up and softened, and run back to the same sins for which we were led into the calamities that have befallen us. "Not so, my sons, not so," as the priest Eli somewhere says, rebuking his own sons who were sinning against God; but knowing that it is an easier matter to recall prosperity that has departed than to preserve that which has come by the grace of God (for the former is brought back by prudence and moderation, whereas the latter is dissipated by negligence); and furthermore, knowing that sick bodies are indeed relieved by remedies and fasting, and are restored to health, but once restored, through carelessness and gluttony, they slowly flow back again and relapse into the same diseases. Having these things proved and well-tested, and teaching one another, let us come to ourselves and spend this time prudently and temperately.

XXXV. And first, brothers, let us celebrate ^C the feast, not with the splendor of the body, nor with changes and magnificence of dress, nor with banquets and drunkenness, the fruit of which you have learned to be chambers and acts of lewdness; nor let us wreath the streets with flowers, nor disgrace our tables and vestibules with the foulness of ointments, nor let us adorn the thresholds with the sensible [world].

^A Let the houses be illuminated with light, and let them not be made to ring with flute-playing and noise; for this is the custom of the Gentile new moon festival. But let us not honor God with these things, nor let us elevate the present season with things that are not at all becoming; but rather with purity of soul, and gladness of mind, and with lamps that illuminate the whole body of the Church—I mean divine contemplations and thoughts—raised up upon the sacred candlestick, and illuminating the whole world. ^B All those lights which men kindle, both privately and publicly, while celebrating a festival, are small in my judgment if compared with this light. I have also an ointment, but it is one with which only priests and kings are anointed, being varied and costly, and poured out for our sake, but compounded by the art of a great perfumer. Would that it might be my lot to offer the fragrance of this ointment to God! I have also a table, this spiritual and divine one, which the Lord has prepared for me in the presence of those who afflict me, at which I am refreshed and find delight, and I do nothing insolent because of the abundance; but rather I lull to sleep every uprising of the passions. ^C I have also flowers, more blossoming and more durable than all the flowers of spring, from the field that is full, which the Lord has blessed: the sacred and sweet-smelling shepherds and teachers, and all that is pure and excellent among the people. With these I desire to be wreathed and to hold a procession, having fought the good fight, and having finished the course, and kept the faith, according to the holy Apostle. Let us take up hymns instead of timbrels, psalmody instead of shameful contortions and songs, a shout of thanksgiving instead of theatrical applause, and a sonorous movement of the hands; contemplation instead of laughter; rational discourse instead of drunkenness; modest seriousness instead of wantonness. ^D And if you must dance, as one who is celebrating a feast and loves the festival, dance, but not the shameful dance of Herodias, the outcome of which is the death of the Baptist; but [dance] like David before the resting of the ark,

which I consider to be a mystery of the nimble and versatile journey according to God. This is the first and greatest part of my exhortation.

^A XXXVI. As for the second point, I do not doubt that most people will not readily accept what I am about to say—for we see that by custom, when a man finds himself in a position to retaliate, especially if he has a just cause for anger on account of what he has suffered, he is least inclined to listen to the reins of reason that would check his spirit—yet it is still worthy of being heard and accepted. Let us not use the opportunity immoderately or insolently; let us not riot in the license that comes with power; let us not show ourselves bitter and harsh toward those who have wronged us; let us not do the very things we previously condemned. But let us gain this one fruit from the change of circumstances: that by avoiding the troubles and bitterness, we abhor anything that looks like retaliation. For it should be considered a sufficiently great punishment for men who are upright and moderate that those who have caused pain are shaken with fear, expecting the retribution they deserve and being tormented by the torture of their own conscience. For what a man fears he will suffer ^B as if he were about to suffer it, he has already suffered, even if he does not actually undergo it; and perhaps he is tormented more by himself than by those who are meant to inflict the punishment. Therefore, let us not be persuaded to measure out our anger, nor let us seem to be lesser avengers than the situation warrants; but since we cannot exact the whole of it, let us forgive the whole. By doing this, let us become superior and higher than those who have wronged us. Let us show what the demons teach them, and what, on the other hand, Christ instructs us—who, while He possesses glory and splendor through the things He has suffered, has nonetheless overcome not less by that which, being able to do, He did not do. Let us offer this one thing to God as a token of gratitude; let us increase the mystery with kindness; let us use the opportunity for this purpose.

XXXVII. Let us overcome those by whom we have been tyrannized with gentleness; and may kindness especially lead us to forgive, and [may] the power of the commandment, which returns the same kindness to us in matters in which we ourselves are in need. For by the measure with which we measure, we know that it shall be measured back to us. But if anyone is of an extremely bitter and difficult disposition, let us leave those who have harmed us to God and to the future tribunal; let us not diminish anything of the future punishment by our own hand. Let us not conceive of the confiscation of property, let us not drag them before the judges’ benches, let us not banish them from their ancestral homes, let us not punish them with lashes, nor, to put it briefly, let us do any of those things which we have suffered. Rather, let us make them more gentle

^A and kinder through our example, if that be at all possible. If anyone has had a son suffer, or a father, or a wife, a kinsman, a friend, or any other person dear to us, let us provide that to each of them there is a reward for their suffering, by persuading them to bear patiently what they have endured; we can grant them nothing greater than this. Shall I also mention the greatest of the benefits we receive? Those who have persecuted us are being cried out against by the masses and by cities—in theaters, in the marketplaces, and in public assemblies. The old is praised, the new is branded with infamy, and—which is truly paradoxical—even by those who were their very partners in persecution, the gods themselves are being cast down from on high with loud outcries, as having deceived them for a long time, and now at last their fraud has been exposed; ^B and he who was a worshiper yesterday is a reviler today. What greater thing than this could we demand? For the present, these things perhaps seem small to the wretched. But the time will come when I shall see my revilers, and the great leader of them all, bewailing their own wickedness, when all iniquity shall be judged and brought to the test.

XXXVIII. I leave aside divine and our own [Christian] punishments, and the lashes that lie in store for them from that quarter; but come now, turn your attention to your own discourses and terrors—those which please not only poets but also philosophers—your Pyriphlegethon, and your Cocytuses, and your Acherons, through which they punish injustice: Tantalus, Tityus, and Ixion. Julian, the emperor of your faction, will be numbered with them, ^C and indeed, according to my own reckoning and decree, he will be numbered before them—not, indeed, enduring the torment of thirst in earthly pools that rise up to his chin, nor, as the tragedy would have it, fearing a great stone hanging over his neck, which, just as it is always being pushed upward, so it also always slips back downward; nor paying this penalty, as he is whirled about with a great rush upon a shrieking wheel, nor having his liver devoured by birds, never failing, but always being replenished—whether these things are truth or fable, clearly indicating the truth through these inventions; but we shall see to what manner of [punishment he will be subject].

and how far more severe these will be, if indeed retributions and punishments are meted out according to the measure of the sins committed.

XXXIX. This shall be your "hospitable gift for a foot," ^B most excellent and wise man (to address you in your own words). This is what we—who were excluded from speech and writing by your great and wondrous law—send to you. Do you see that we were not, in the end, to remain silent, nor were we to be deprived of speech and writing by your decrees, but rather that we should at last send forth a free voice that would refute your stupidity? For just as the cataracts of the Nile falling from Ethiopia into Egypt cannot be checked by any art, nor can a sunbeam, even if it be obscured for a short time by a cloud; so too, the tongue of Christians cannot be hindered from attacking and exposing your affairs. This, Basil and Gregory, the adversaries and rivals of your enterprise, send to you—even though you yourself thought, and tried to persuade others, that by the threats you made you were honoring us and sharpening us more keenly toward piety. Knowing well that we were already famous and renowned—from our earliest days in Greece—for our life, our speech, and our mutual concord, you nevertheless treated us with "Cyclopean honor," reserving us for the last of the persecution, and perhaps devising us as a great and magnificent triumphal gift for the demons, should we receive you returning from Persia, or hoping, in your wicked conceit, to drag us down together with you into your abyss.

XL. For we are not more cowardly than those youths ^C who were bedewed in the flames, and who conquered wild beasts through faith, and who—with a brave mother and a still braver priest—eagerly exposed themselves to dangers; and they made it plain and clear that faith is the one thing of all others that cannot be overcome by any force. Or are we less brave than those youths in your own time, one of whom, having insulted the mother of your gods and scattered her altar, was brought forth as a condemned man?

^A He entered, however, as a victor; and having mocked your purple and your words as calculating and ridiculous, he departed with greater boldness, just as if someone were returning from a dinner and a splendid banquet. But the other, his entire body lacerated to the bone by whips, and still breathing faintly from his wounds, was so far from yielding to the tortures or considering any of those present to be grievous, that when he saw some part of his body left untouched by the blows, he blamed the torturers themselves as being insulting, in that they had not honored his whole body but had left some part unlacerated and unholy; and at the same time, he pointed to his shin as the only part that had escaped the claws, and ordered them not to spare even that.

^B XLI. This oration of yours, consisting of Porphyry’s falsehoods and ravings, in which you exult as if in divine oracles, or your *Misopogon*—or *Antiochicus*, for you title your oration in both ways—is in no wise less vile and contemptible among Christians. That oration of yours, the purple once rendered great, as did the flatterers who exalted all your works to the heavens; but now it is mere beard, being corrupted and torn, and together with those by whom it was composed, it is mocked. In it, you puff yourself up greatly, as if telling of something wondrous, because of your frugal and by no means superfluous diet and manner of life, and the fact that you never contracted indigestion from overeating. But that you vexed the Christians so bitterly, and crushed and nearly consumed so great and so sacred a race, you deliberately pass by. Yet, if one man suffered from indigestion or emitted natural belches, what harm did the republic suffer from that? But when such a persecution has been stirred up, and such a great confusion has been innovated, how is it not entirely necessary for the affairs of the Romans to fare badly, just as they evidently have fared?

perturbation having been induced, how is it possible that the affairs of the Romans are not all in a bad state, just as they are also seen to have been?

XLII. ^A This is the pillar from us, loftier and more conspicuous than the pillars of Hercules. For those are fixed in only one place, and can be seen only by those who travel there; but this one, being in motion, cannot but be known and manifest everywhere and to all: a pillar which, believe me, future time will also take up, exposing you and your crimes, and instructing and admonishing all the rest not to dare any such rebellion against God, lest, by doing the same things, they also receive the same recompense.

ADMONITION REGARDING ORATION VI

I. Gregory, the father of our Theologian, a man otherwise most excellent and a very diligent defender of the true Catholic religion, not perceiving the frauds of the Arians owing to his simplicity, had benevolently received certain individuals infected with this poison and had subscribed to a certain impious opinion of theirs. This matter stirred the minds of the monks with such indignation that they immediately withdrew from his communion, and by their example drew a great part of the people with them. From this, a very wide path was opened for the Arians to oppose the Catholics; and the evil would have crept much further, had not the care of our Theologian withstood it, and had not the father, Gregory himself, openly professed his faith and requested that whatever he had committed in that matter through imprudence be pardoned. Then the monks easily returned to favor with their bishop. Peace having therefore been established, our Gregory delivered this oration, in which he first renders the reasons for his duty, and, opportunity being given, very elegantly describes the form of monastic life; then, for the benefit received, he gives thanks to God; and, to inflame the Nazianzen people with a greater desire for concord, he sets forth the praises and advantages of peace, and by comparing them with the inconveniences of discord, he amplifies them in a wonderful manner. Afterward, he exhorts them not to separate themselves so easily hereafter from the society of their erring brethren, but rather to correct them with human and fraternal charity. Finally, congratulating his father on the return of the monks, he concludes the oration with the Catholic confession of the Trinity.

II. But Gregory begins this oration thus: "I loosen my tongue, and for the sake of the Spirit’s law, I ignore human law; and the sermon, which I have not yet yielded to anyone, I offer as a gift to peace." These last words: "which I have not yet yielded to anyone," have led a man who is not otherwise unlearned 43 into error, so that he believed this to be the first of all of Gregory’s orations, although it is certain that the twin invectives *Against Julian* were written at the time of the Nazianzen schism 44. Furthermore, we have demonstrated by invincible arguments, if we are not mistaken, that the oration *On Pascha* and the *Oration on the departure into Pontus* had been delivered even then, and the orations themselves speak to this effect. Therefore, when Gregory says that he "had not yet yielded a sermon to anyone," he is speaking of nothing other than the time in which "the tunic of Christ was torn," to use his words, or rather, "the body was lacerated," and pain, like a cloud, obscured the rays of his speech; hence, the serenity of peace having been restored, he cast aside his silence and delivered the oration before the people.

III. The most learned Tillemont thinks a little differently, though he himself also places the oration in question in this same order. For, fearful of relegating the Nazianzen schism to after Gregory’s priesthood, he leans almost to the point of believing that the "sermon not yet yielded to anyone" was a sermon "yielded" by Gregory prior to that one. To us, however, there seems to be no difficulty here, since in the *Life of Gregory*, we have proved by most valid arguments that the schism of the Nazianzen Church did not arise until after the Theologian had been ordained a presbyter. But it is not easy to define at what time the beginning of this mournful schism occurred. It is certain, however, that there was no discord in the Nazianzen Church when Gregory delivered his first three orations. For the happy and most loving gift of peace and concord was still flourishing in the year 362, and all were joined by the bond of mutual charity. Therefore, the monks’ schism emerged within the end of the year 363 45. For upon the conclusion of this same year, it had already broken out when Gregory was writing his first invective in the Pontic solitude, and it seems to have persisted until the beginnings of the following year, 364. It lasted for a short and brief time, or, to speak with Gregory, "in order that through the dissension, those dissenting might understand the good of peace."