In Praise of Athanasius

may we have the fruit, namely the full illumination of the holy Trinity, whatever that may be, and of what kind, and how great, if it is permissible to speak thus, in Christ our Lord himself, to whom be glory and empire for ever and ever. Amen.

385 MONITUM ON ORATIONE XXI

I. In this panegyric oration, which Jerome mentions (22), and which Eulogius of Alexandria commends honorably (23), Gregory follows the praises of the great Athanasius. So great indeed was the fame of his holiness that the orator in the very beginning professes that, “in praising Athanasius, one is praising virtue.” And certainly, comparing the most holy bishop with the excellent men of the Old and New Testaments, he shows him in no way inferior to their virtues. “For some,” he says (n. 4), “he equaled, from some he was a little removed, and some he even surpassed.” And then, treating the chief chapters of his life, he shows how great and how illustrious were his achievements against the errors of Arius in the Nicene synod, how many exiles his invincible faith endured, with what equipment and with what a concourse of men he was received in the city upon his return from exile; and, to express it in a word, this oration includes so many and such excellent deeds of Athanasius that one can hardly long for the history which this most invincible champion of the Catholic faith had wished to write, but which was either lost or not written. He relates more besides concerning the life and morals of the emperors Constantius and Julian, and concerning the audacity of Arius and the fitting end of his impiety; and whatever should be thought concerning the true and most holy Trinity, by weaving it wonderfully into the praises of Athanasius, he confounds and agitates the followers of Sabellius and Arius on every side.

II. Learned men believe this oration to have been delivered at Constantinople. Such is the opinion of Nicetas and Tillemont (24). And this is gathered from these words of the Theologian (n. 5): “Neither is it pious,” he says, “nor is it safe, when the life of impious men is being committed to memory, to pass over in silence those who are excellent in piety; especially in that city which even many examples of piety can scarcely preserve; seeing that it treats divine things as a pastime, just as it does the circus and the theaters.” For by these final words the other Rome is designated. Furthermore, Gregory speaks in the same manner in Oration XXII, *On Peace* (n. 8), which no one doubts was delivered at Constantinople. These things also harmonize best with what the monuments of history report about Constantinople (25). We also believe that it was delivered on the second of May, on which day the memory of Athanasius is celebrated by Greeks and Latins alike. For it is agreed, as Gregory testifies in his encomium on Cyprian, that the memory of the martyrs was celebrated with annual and solemn festivals. From which it is permissible to conjecture that this oration was delivered on the anniversary of Athanasius’s feast. In what year, however, is not so clear. If one trusts Tillemont (26), the year appears to be 379. Yet we do not assert this so confidently as to think it could not be deferred to the following year.

LOGOS XXI. ^A In Praise of the Great Athanasius, Bishop of Alexandria

I. In praising Athanasius, I shall be praising virtue. For it is the same to speak of him as it is to praise virtue, since he possessed all virtues gathered into one, or, to speak more truly, he possesses them. For all who have lived according to God live to God, even...

^A if they have migrated from this life. Hence he is called "the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob," as the God of the living, not of the dead. But when I praise virtue, I am praising God, from whom virtue flows to men, and by whom they are raised, or rather brought back, to Him through a kindred illumination. For while the things we have and shall have from God are many and great—so many and so great, indeed, that no one can encompass them in speech—the greatest and most philanthropic of all is this: the inclination toward Him and the intimacy with Him. For what the sun is to sensible things, that God is to things understood by the mind and reason. For the former illuminates the visible world, the latter the invisible; the former makes the eyes of the body sun-like, the latter makes the intellectual natures God-like ^B. And just as the sun is the most beautiful of visible things, both for those who see and those that are seen, providing to the former the power to see and to the latter the capacity to be seen, so God is the supreme vertex of all things intelligible, to whom all desire comes to rest, and beyond whom one can be borne nowhere. For the mind, however philosophical, however high-reaching, and however insatiably curious it may be, neither possesses nor will ever possess anything higher. For this is the ultimate limit of all things to be desired; having reached this, all speculation will find its rest.

II. Whosoever, therefore, has been able, through reason and contemplation, to break through this earthly mass and loosen this carnal cloud—or veil, if one should call it that—in order to have communion with God and be mingled with the purest light ^C, as much as is granted to human nature, that person must be pronounced blessed by a double title: both because he has ascended from here, and because he has attained that deification which a true and sincere pursuit of philosophy provides, and an elevation of the mind above the earthly binary, on account of that unity which we understand in the Trinity. But he who, due to the soul’s conjunction with the body, has become the worse, and has so clung to the mire that he is unable to direct the keen gaze of his mind toward the rays of truth, nor to rise above these lower things, even though he has drawn his origin from above and is called toward the things above—I deem such a person miserable for his blindness, even if the affairs of this life flow for him according to his heart's desire; and he is all the more miserable the more he is toyed with by his prosperity, ^D and is persuaded that some other thing is "good" before the true Good, plucking the evil fruit of an evil opinion; so that he is either condemned to darkness or, like someone who has not known what is light, sees fire instead of light.

^A III. These things have been pondered by a few, both of our own time and of old (for few are God’s, even if all are His creations), by lawgivers, commanders, priests, prophets, evangelists, apostles, shepherds, teachers, and by every spiritual fullness and assembly; and among them all, by the one now being praised. Whom, then, do I call these? That Enoch, Noe, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, the twelve patriarchs, Moses, Aaron, Josue, the Judges, Samuel, David, Solomon for a time, Elias, Eliseus, the prophets who preceded the captivity and those who existed after it; and those last in order, but first in truth—all that concerned the Incarnation, or taking up of flesh, of Christ: the lamp before the Light, the voice before the Word, the mediator before the Mediator—that is, the illustrious John, who stood in the middle between the Old and New Testaments; the disciples of Christ, and finally those who after Christ either presided over the people, or became manifest through speech and doctrine, or were distinguished by miracles, or brought to perfection by blood. ^{B D} IV. Athanasius equaled some of these, was a little behind others, and even surpassed some—if it does not seem too bold for me to say so. Imitating the speech of some, the action of others, the gentleness of some, the zeal of others, the struggles of others, and from many, all things—gathering from one and another just as those who paint forms or likenesses with singular study and elegance—he brought them into his own soul and produced from them all one perfect image of virtue. He set himself to be such that he would overcome those skilled in speech by his action, and those skilled in action by his speech; or if you prefer, he would surpass in doctrine those who were glorious in doctrine, and in action those who were most fit for affairs. And he was superior to those who had mediocre praise in both kinds, because he excelled to the highest degree in one of them; and again, he was superior to those who excelled greatly in only one kind, in that he was powerful in both virtues. And if it is a great and honorable thing for those who preceded him that they provided him an example of virtue, it ought certainly to be counted no less glorious for our subject that he himself became an example to those who came after him. ^D V. To pursue and praise the whole of his life in speech would perhaps be a longer task than the structure of this oration allows, and is rather a work of history than of encomium, a work which I desire—as if in

^A writing the life of that divine Antony—to set forth the law of the monastic life under the guise of a narrative. But having gone through a few things out of many of his, and such as memory happens now to suggest to us as more familiar, that we may both discharge our own longing and fulfill what is fitting for this festival, we shall leave the greater part to those who know them. For it is neither holy nor safe otherwise that while the lives of impious men are handed down to memory, those who have excelled in piety should be passed over in silence; and this too in a city which even many examples of virtue could scarcely save, since it treats divine things just as it does the races and the theaters.

^B VI. He therefore, having been educated and disciplined in divine ways from the very first, having applied himself to the liberal arts for but a short space of time—so as not to appear entirely unacquainted with such things, nor ignorant of what he had determined to despise—did not suffer his noble and excellent disposition to be occupied with vain studies, nor to be affected in the same way as unskilled athletes, who, by striking the air more than their bodies, are frustrated of their prize. And having meditated upon all the books of the Old and New Testaments as no one else had, he is enriched with contemplation, and enriched with brilliance of life, and he weaves both together marvelously, a truly golden chain, and one that most people can scarcely link; for he used life as a guide to contemplation, and contemplation as a seal upon life. For the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, as a kind of first swaddling band; and wisdom, having surpassed fear and raised us up to love, makes us friends of God and children instead of slaves.

^C VII. Thus, then, educated and instructed as those who are to be leaders of the people and to handle the great body of Christ must also be today, according to the great counsel and foreknowledge of God, who prepares the material of great events from afar, he is enrolled into this great order of priests, and is written into the number of those who draw near to the One who draws near to God, and is honored with the dignity of a sacred station and order; and having passed through the whole succession of degrees, that I may cut short what is in between, he is entrusted with the presidency of the people—or to say the same thing, the oversight of the whole world. And I cannot tell whether he received this dignity as a reward of virtue, or because he was to be the fountain and life of the Church. For it was necessary that this, which was failing from thirst for the truth, should be watered, like Ishmael.

^A or refreshed like Elijah, by the torrent, when the earth was parched by drought, and that what was breathing faintly should be revived, and a seed be left for Israel: that we might not become as Sodom and Gomorrah, whose wickedness was notorious, but their destruction more notorious, overwhelmed and buried, as they were, by fire and brimstone. For this reason, a horn of salvation was raised for us who were already lying low, and a corner-stone, binding us both to Himself and to each other, was cast in at the opportune time; or a fire, a purifier of base and wretched matter, or a farmer’s winnowing-fan, by which the light and the heavy doctrines are distinguished, or a sword cutting out the roots of wickedness; and so the Word finds His own ally, and the Spirit finds one who breathes on His behalf.

VIII. Thus, then, and for these reasons, by the vote of the whole people, not according to the evil pattern which later prevailed, nor by force and slaughter, but in an apostolic and spiritual manner, he is raised to the throne of Mark, being a successor no less in piety than in the chair; for while he is removed from him in time, he is found close to him in piety; which is precisely what must be deemed a succession. For he who professes the same doctrine of faith is also a partner in the same throne; but he who holds the opposite view ^B must be considered an adversary upon the throne. The former has the name, but the latter has the very reality and truth of succession. For not he who has forced his way in is to be held the successor, but he who has suffered the force; nor he who has violated the laws, but he who has been appointed legally; nor he who holds contrary dogmas, but he who is of the same faith; unless one might perhaps call a disease the successor to health, and darkness to light, and a storm to tranquility, and madness to prudence.

IX. And since he is appointed in this way, he administers his office ^C in this same way. For he does not, as soon as he attains the throne, behave like those who have seized some tyranny or inheritance beyond their expectation, and immediately break out into insolence due to satiety. For this is the way of spurious and surreptitious priests, and those unworthy of the profession; who, having brought nothing to the priesthood, and having undergone no struggles for the sake of virtue, are revealed at once as both disciples and teachers ^D of piety, and cleanse others before they have been cleansed themselves: yesterday temple-robbers, and today priests; yesterday outside the holy things, and today leaders in the mysteries; yesterday old in wickedness, and today novices in piety.

^A This is a work of human favor, not of the Spirit; those who, when they have pressed through all things, end by playing the tyrant even over piety. Regarding them, it is not the character that is trusted for the rank, but the rank for the character, with the order being greatly inverted. Most of them owe sacrifices on their own behalf rather than for the trespasses of the people; and they assuredly commit one of two sins: either out of a need for indulgence themselves, they are excessively indulgent to others—so that vice is not only not repressed, but is even taught—or, by the harshness of their authority, they hide their own sins. Athanasius avoided both of these. He was sublime in life, but humble in spirit; and he possessed such virtue that no one could aspire to it, yet such affability that easy access to his company was open to all. He was gentle, not given to anger, inclined toward compassion, delightful in speech, yet more delightful in character; angelic in appearance, and more angelic in his soul. In rebuking, he was calm; in praising, he had the power to instruct; so moderating both that he weakened neither through immoderation, but his rebuke attained to paternal kindness, and his praise to the gravity worthy of authority. Neither was his tenderness dissolute, nor his severity rigid and gloomy; rather, the former earned the name of ^B affability and kindness, and the latter that of prudence, while both attained the praise of wisdom. He so conducted himself that he had no great need of words, since his character was abundantly sufficient for instruction; nor, again, did he have much need of the rod, because of his power and faculty of speech; and far less did he need the knife, because the rod struck with moderation.

X. But what purpose does it serve for me to describe the man to you? Paul has anticipated me and depicted him; whether when he proclaims that great High Priest who has passed through the heavens (for my discourse will not hesitate to go even so far as this, since Scripture knows how to call those who live according to Christ 'Christs'), ^C or when, in the epistle he writes to Timothy, he imposes laws and formulates and informs the one who is to be a leader of the Church. For if you were to apply that law as a sort of rule to the one who is praised in those matters, you will clearly perceive his rectitude. Come then, and take up with me the office of praise. For I toil with my discourse, and I desire to pass over many things; but now I am detained by one thing, now by another, and I cannot find what is most excellent, just as in a body that is equally and elegantly formed in every part. For as each thing occurs to me, so it appears more beautiful and excellent, and draws the discourse toward itself. ^D Make haste, therefore, all you who are heralds and witnesses of his praises, and engage in a noble contest with one another—men together with women, young men and virgins, old men with the young, priests and people, the monastic and the mixed multitude, those who possess simplicity and those who possess exactness, all...

all those indeed whose life is spent either in contemplation or in the conduct of affairs. Let one praise his assiduity in fasts and prayers, as of one free from body and matter; another his vigor, invincible in vigils and psalms. Let one tell of his care and protection for the needy; another of his opposition to the arrogant, or his condescension to the humble. Let virgins praise him as their bridesman; those under the yoke, as their guide to temperance; those in the desert, as their awakener; those in society, as their lawgiver; the simple, as their leader; those given to contemplation, as their theologian; those in prosperity, as their bridle; those in misfortune, as their consolation. Let old age praise him as its staff; youth as its instructor; poverty as its provider; wealth as its steward. It seems to me that widows, too, will praise him as their patron; orphans as their father; the poor as their lover of the poor; strangers as their host; brothers as a lover of the brothers; the sick as their physician, for whatever disease or medicine you may name; the healthy as the guardian of their health; and all men as him who became all things to all men, that he might gain all, or at least the many.

^B XI. As I said, let others admire and celebrate these things, those who have the leisure to admire the lesser things of his life. And when I say "lesser," I say it by comparing him with himself, and by weighing his own virtues against his own virtues (for that which has been glorified has not been glorified, even if it is exceedingly brilliant, because of the surpassing glory, as we have heard); since even a few of his qualities are sufficient to bring glory to others. But for us—for it is not to be endured that we, leaving the Word, should minister to lesser matters—we must turn to the highest peak of his praises. And it is the work of God, for whom this discourse is intended, to speak something worthy of his grand eloquence and his soul.

^D XII. There was a time when our affairs were flourishing and in a good state, when this superfluous and glib method of discussing theology, and this studied art, did not even have access to the divine courts. Rather, it was the same thing to play with pebbles, which cheat the sight by the speed of their movement, or to dance before spectators with all sorts of effeminate twists of the body, and to speak and hear something new and curious regarding God; while the simple [...]

and noble speech ^A and doctrine was considered piety. But after the Sexti and Pyrrhones, and the tongue spurred by the desire to contradict, crept like some grave and malignant disease into our Churches to our great harm, and empty talk brought the reputation of learning, and, as the book of Acts relates of the Athenians, we have leisure for nothing else than to speak or hear something new (83). O, who is there that will lament our confusion and darkness like Jeremiah, he alone who knows how to make lamentations equal to our calamities! ^B

XIII. Arius, indeed, he who has his name from that madness, gave the beginning to this fury, he who also paid the penalty for his petulant and unbridled tongue, dying in obscene and impure places, overcome not by disease but by his prayers, and suffering a rupture like Judas for the same betrayal of the Word. But others, receiving this disease, created an art of impiety; for, by circumscribing the Godhead by the Unbegotten, they banished not only the Begotten, but even the Proceeding, from the bounds of the divine nature, honoring the Trinity only by a community of name, or not even maintaining that for It. But not so that blessed man, that true man of God, and great trumpet of truth. Nay rather, since he perceived clearly that to contract these three into the number one is the mark of impious error and the new dogma of Sabellius, who first devised the contraction of the Godhead; and again, that to divide the three into natures is nothing else than to introduce a monstrous dissection of the Godhead; he held to this method: to preserve the one, as far as the Godhead is concerned, most beautifully, and to teach the three, as far as the properties are concerned, piously; neither confusing the Godhead by the one, nor distracting it by the three, but remaining within the bounds of piety, avoiding excessive inclination and opposition in either direction. ^C

XIV. And for this reason, he first, in that holy Council of Nicaea (87), and with that number of three hundred and eighteen chosen men (88), whom the Holy Spirit had gathered into one, checked the disease as much as lay in his power; not yet having been enrolled among the bishops, but holding the first place among those who had assembled. For such was the state of affairs at that time, that one was judged by the excellence of honor no less through virtue than through the dignity of grade. Then, since this evil had now been stirred up and inflamed by the bellows of that wicked man, and was invading the greater part of the world (for truly, here were the tragedies of which almost the whole earth and sea are full), great was the war around ^D him, as being a noble champion…

^A of the Word (for the battle is most fierce against the one who resists, and from every side some other danger flows; for impiety is a fountain 91 of evils and is exceedingly daring in its undertakings—but how were they going to spare men, they who did not spare the Divinity?). But one of these onslaughts was the most grievous of all. I myself also contribute something to the drama, but let my beloved parent soil be excused 94 by me: for the wickedness belongs not to the land that bore us, but to those who chose it. For the one is holy and known to all for its piety, while the others are unworthy of the Church that bore them. You have heard that a thorn also grows in the vineyard 96; and Judas, one of the disciples, was a traitor.

XV. Now, there are those who do not even spare my namesake 97 from accusation—he who, for the love of learning, was at that time sojourning in the city of the Alexandrians, and having received total kindness from him, being valued as highly as a most beloved son, and being one of those trusted with the greatest matters, did, as they say, plot an insurrection against his father and protector 98. And the drama was indeed that of others, but the hand was Absalom’s, as the saying goes. If any of you know 99 of the hand, for which the holy man was falsely maligned, and of the living dead man, and the unjust exile, you know what I mean. However, I will gladly forget this. For I am so disposed in doubtful matters that I believe it is better to incline toward kindness and humanity, and to acquit the accused rather than condemn them. For the bad man is very quick to condemn even the good man, but the good man does not even easily condemn the bad. For he is not ready for wickedness, nor is he prone to suspicion. But this is no longer a mere report, but an actual fact, and not a suspicion that defies investigation, but a conviction grounded on most certain proofs. Indeed, I shall tell that too.

XVI. Some Cappadocian monster, springing from the furthest reaches of our land, evil in race, worse in mind, not entirely free, but mixed, such as we know the mule to be ^C… ^D

^A in nature; at first a slave to a strange table, a creature to be bought with a morsel, who had learned to do and say everything for the sake of his belly; and finally, having crept into political life, and having been entrusted with the lowest duties of this office—that is, the reception of the pork with which the military crowds are fed—and then having turned out to be wicked regarding the faith, and having lived only for his belly, since the body was all that was left to him, he conceives a plan of flight. ^B Exchanging one region and city for another, as is the way of fugitives, he comes at last to Alexandria, to the common ruin of the Church, like some Egyptian plague. Here he ceases his wandering, but begins his wickedness and craft. Otherwise he was of no value: not schooled in the liberal arts, not witty in gathering or conversation, not even wearing the mask or empty semblance of piety, but most apt for undertaking crimes and throwing affairs into confusion.

XVII. You all know and tell of the insolent acts he committed against that holy man. For very often the just are delivered into the hands and power of the impious, not that the latter may be honored, but that the virtue of the former may be tested. And although the death of the wicked is most foul, as Scripture testifies, yet for the present the cultivators of piety are mocked, while the goodness of God is ^C hidden for a time, and the great storehouses of the things which are laid up for both in the future remain concealed. Then, when word and action and thought shall be weighed in the just scales of God, when He Himself arises to judge the earth, gathering together the counsel and the works, and revealing and bringing into the midst the things which have been stored up and sealed by Him—let this persuade you, both by his speech and by his torment, that man, Job, who was a true man, blameless, just, pious, and whatever else is testified of him in Scripture; yet he is shaken by such and so many dense and ^D repeated assaults from him who had begged for his trial, that—although many from the whole of human memory have often fallen into calamities, and indeed, as is probable, some have been vexed and afflicted—no one can be compared with his calamities. For he was deprived not only of money and lands and splendid, numerous offspring, which are things desirable to all men—not only of these, so that there was no room for mourning due to the continuity of his evils—but at the last, struck in his very body with an incurable and grievous

^A affliction, dreadful even to behold, he had for the culmination of his calamity his wife, who consoled him in a way worse and more grievous than his troubles; for she acted so offensively that to the bodily blow was added a wound of the soul. Moreover, even his most sincere friends, to use his own words, he had as "consolers of evils," not as ones who drove them away; for when they perceived his pain, but did not understand the mystery of the pain, they remained in the opinion that this blow had been inflicted upon him not for the testing of virtue, but for the punishment of wickedness. Why do I say "to think"? Nay, they did not even fear to reproach him for his calamity; and that at a time when, even if he were paying the penalty for sin, it was fitting to deceive and mitigate his anguish with soothing words.

^B XVIII. In this state, then, was Job, and the principles of the divine dispensation regarding him were as follows. For virtue was contending against the envious spirit. The latter struggled with all its might to overcome virtue; the former endured all things to remain unconquered. And the latter laboured to build an easy path for vice through the torment of the just; the former, on the contrary, laboured to retain the good as superior, even in their calamities. But what of Him who gave oracles to him through the whirlwind and clouds, the One slow to punish and quick to help, who does not wholly cast the rod of sinners into the lot of the just, lest the just learn wickedness? At the end of the trials, He proclaims His athlete as victor with a glorious pronouncement, and unveils the secret of the affliction, saying: "Do you think that I have dealt with you in this way for any other reason than that your justice might be made manifest?" This is the medicine for the wounds, this is the crown of the contest, this is the reward of patience. For what followed, though perhaps small, even if it seems great to some, and though it were ordained for the sake of small men, yet he received back even double what had been taken away.

^C XIX. Consequently, it should not be considered a wonder here if George fared better in his condition than Athanasius; but it would have been more worthy of wonder if the just man had not been tested by the fires of injuries and calumnies. Indeed, not even this is a matter of great wonder; but it would rather have excited admiration if he had been prolonged for a great duration in those flames. Hence he changes his ground and arranges his exile most splendidly. For he betakes himself to those sacred and divine monasteries of Egypt, in which men

^A who occupy themselves in the body—some spending a life entirely set apart and inaccessible, conversing only with themselves and with God, knowing no other adornment than that which they recognize in the desert; others preserving the law of love through fellowship, being at once hermits and cenobites, dying to other men and to all the affairs that are bandied about in the world, whirling and being whirled, and playing with us by their sudden shifts, but being an adornment to one another, and sharpening virtue by their mutual contact. Having associated with these, the great Athanasius was, as it were, the mediator and reconciler of all other things, ^B imitating Him who made peace by His blood between those things which were at variance; thus he also reconciles the eremitic life with the communal one, showing that there is such a thing as a priesthood that is philosophical, and a philosophy that needs initiation into the mysteries.

XX. For thus he harmonized both, and brought them into one, even active tranquillity and tranquil activity, so as to persuade all that the profession of the monastic life is characterized more by the gravity and constancy of one’s conduct than by the withdrawal of the body. To which opinion that great David also truly held—he who was most practical and yet most solitary; ^C if to anyone that text, "I am alone, until I pass over," seems to have great weight and credibility in proof of my position. For this reason, while excelling others in virtue, they were further removed from his mind than they were ahead of the others; and bringing few things to the perfection of the priesthood, they received many more for the utility of philosophy; and they attributed so much to him that whatever pleased him, they held as law, and conversely, they considered whatever he disapproved of by his judgment to be forbidden and interdicted to them, and they regarded his decrees as Mosaic tablets, and treated him with a veneration greater than that which appears to be owed to holy men. For when certain persons betook ^D themselves to that place to track down the pious man just as if he were a wild beast, and, having sought him everywhere, could not find him, they did not even deign to speak to those who had been sent; but they offered their necks to the swords, as if in danger for Christ, and considering the suffering of some irreparable harm for his sake to be the greatest portion of philosophy—far more divine and loftier than long fasts, lying on the ground, and the other bodily afflictions which those men always keep as their perpetual delight.

^A He, then, was engaged in these studies, confirming that of Solomon, who taught that there is a time for every matter. And for this reason he hid himself for a short time, escaping the season determined for war, so that he might appear together with the one coming in the time of peace—which is what, indeed, happened shortly afterwards. But George, with no one now checking his onslaught, ravages Egypt with his incursions and lays waste to Syria with the might of his impiety. He seizes also as much of the East as he can, taking to himself daily those who are lax and languid, just as mountain torrents gather what flows along with them, setting upon those who are more unstable or cowardly. He ^B even wins over the simplicity of the Emperor—for thus I term his levity, out of respect for his piety. For, if one must tell the truth, he had a zeal, but not according to knowledge. He buys off among the authorities those who were lovers of gold rather than lovers of Christ (for the means of the poor were at his disposal, poorly spent), and among these, most especially those who were womanish and unmanly among men, and of doubtful character through and through, yet manifest in their impiety; to whom, I do not know how or whence, the Roman Emperors entrust the affairs of men, while they are trusted with the affairs of women. ^C And such was the strength of this minister of the evil one, this sower of tares, this forerunner of Antichrist; he so divided the business that he might use a certain bishop—at that time the most eloquent—as a tongue (if one may indeed please to call him eloquent, who was not so much an impious heretic as a hater and one aflame with the spirit of contention; for I will intentionally pass over his name); but he himself, being like a hand for the party, would overthrow the truth with gold—gold which had been collected for pious uses, but which wicked men turned into an instrument of impiety.

^D XXII. The result of this power was that council which was gathered first at Seleucia, where the shrine of the holy and illustrious virgin Thecla is, and afterwards in this great city—cities which, previously renowned for the most beautiful names, he made famous and illustrious by the notoriety of most disgraceful deeds; whether we call it the Tower of Chalane, which rightly divided the tongues (would that they were divided likewise, since their concord is for evil!), or the council of Caiaphas, by which Christ is condemned, or by whatever other name this assembly must be called, which overturned and threw everything into confusion. For the pious doctrine...

^A and the patron of the Trinity, having broken down the rampart and shaken the "consubstantial" by siege engines, it brought to naught. But for impiety, through the ambiguity of a written dogma, it opened a door, under the pretext that it revered Scripture and embraced the use of the most approved terms, but in reality substituting for it an unwritten Arianism which is found in no passage of Scripture. For these words, "Like according to the Scriptures," were a bait for the simpler sort, cast around the hook of impiety; an image turning itself toward all who pass by, a buskin common to both feet, a winnowing before every wind, having obtained authority for a newly written malice, and a device against the truth. For they were wise to do evil, but to do good they knew not.

XXIII. From this came that subtle and captious condemnation of the heretics, whom in word they denounced ^B so that their undertaking might be more plausible, but in deed they brought them forward. They did not charge them with boundless impiety, but with an insatiable longing for writing (*syggraphē*). From this came the profane judges of holy men, and that strange mixture: a public spectacle, yet involving mystical questions, handled by the common folk, and an iniquitous inquiry into past deeds, and hired sycophants, and sentences pronounced for a fixed price. From this some were unjustly driven from the thrones of the churches, and others were put into their place; yet in such a way that they required of them hand-written documents of impiety, just as if it were some other necessary thing. And the ink was ready, and the calumniator was at hand. This matter drove very many of us—men who were otherwise unconquered—into ^C deception; men who, although they had by no means fallen in their minds, were nevertheless led astray by their signature, and agreed with them, acting dishonestly in both respects; and if they did not share in the flame, they certainly were participants in the smoke. This, I myself have often lamented with many tears, looking upon that impiety which then flowed far and wide, and the persecution which is now stirred up against the orthodox doctrine by the supposed patrons of the Word.

XXIV. For truly, the pastors played the fool, as Scripture says, and many pastors have destroyed my vineyard; they have defiled the desirable portion—I mean the Church of God, with its many labors ^D and...

^A sacrifices, gathered both before Christ and after Christ, and by the very great sufferings of God himself for our salvation. For except for a very few—and even those were cast aside because of their insignificance, or stood their ground because of their virtue, who needed to be left as a seed and root for Israel, so that it might bloom again and revive by the outpourings of the Spirit—all yielded to the time. The only difference between them was that some fell into this fraud sooner, some later; and some showed themselves to be leaders and heads of the impiety, while others were placed in the second rank, being either struck by fear, or coerced by gain and utility, or lured by flattery, or, most mildly of all, cheated by ignorance—if indeed this is sufficient as an excuse for those entrusted with the leadership of the people.

For just as the impulses of lions and other animals are not the same, nor even those of men and women, or elders and young people, but there is no small difference of age and sex; thus it is not the same for those in authority and those who are subject to them. For those of the common people who have committed this through error, we might perhaps pardon, as they are often saved by their lack of critical judgment. ^B But how are we to grant this to a teacher, who ought to correct the ignorances of others, unless he wrongly lays claim to that name? For how is it not absurd that while no one is permitted to be ignorant of Roman law—no matter how rustic and unlearned one may be—and there exists no law that offers relief for crimes committed through ignorance, yet the initiators of salvation should be ignorant of the principles of salvation, even if they were otherwise simpler and not deep in their thinking?

But let there be pardon for those who followed along through ignorance. What, however, would you say of the others, who, while laying claim to the praise of intelligence, yet for the reasons I have mentioned gave themselves over to the emperors, and though they had played the role of piety for a long time as if in a game, as soon as some trial arrived by which they could be tested and exposed, they immediately collapsed?

XXV.

I consider it to be of such a nature that it moves from us ^B everything that is philosophic and possessed of the love of God, and those who even before the proper time lead a heavenly life. For these persons, even if they are otherwise peaceful and moderate, cannot endure to be easy in this matter, or to betray God through silence; on the contrary, they are here excessively warlike and fierce (for such is the heat of zeal), and they would sooner stir up something that should not be stirred, than neglect what ought to be done. And no small part of the people is torn away with them; just as in a flock of birds, they take flight together with those who lead the way, and even now [the flock] does not cease from taking flight together.

XXVI.

tem, zero nempe iracundiam acuente. Quod etiam ipsum Alexandrinis accidit, qui, ut in eos, a quibus contumeliam acceperunt, acerbissimi esse solent, importunam hominis audaciam indignissimis animis ferentes, tum novo dedecore mortem notandam atque infamandam duxerunt. Notus est vobis camelus ille, atque insueta sarcina, et nova altitudo, primaque illa, ac, nisi me opinio fallit, sola circumductio, quæ etiamnum contumeliosis hominibus minaciter denuntiatur.

ORATIO XXI. — IN LAUDEM ATHANASII.

^A You know that camel, and the strange burden, and the novel height, and that first perambulation—which I think is also the only one—which even until now is threatened against those who act insolently.

XXVII. But when that whirlwind of injustice, that plague and corruption of piety, that forerunner of the Evil One, was punished by such a penalty—in my judgment, not rightly (for one ought not have regard for what he deserved to suffer, but for what it was proper for us to do), but yet he was punished, and he underwent the onslaught and wrath of the whole populace—then that noble athlete returned to the city from his noble exile (for so I call his flight undertaken for the Trinity and with the Trinity). He was met by citizens so joyful and eager—or rather, by almost all of Egypt, running together from every direction and from the furthest ends of all Egypt—that some might be satisfied by the voice of Athanasius alone, others by his form and appearance, and others—just as we heard concerning the apostles—might be sanctified at least by his shadow and the empty outline of his body. So that, although many honors have been rendered to many, many times, throughout all history, and many have been met by crowds—not only by public officials and bishops, but also by the most prominent and distinguished of their own kin—yet it is recorded that no such reception was ever greater in frequency and splendor. One honor alone can be compared to this: that with which Athanasius himself had been adorned upon his former entry, when he was returning to Alexandria from the same flight and for the same reasons. ^B

XXVIII. Indeed, a certain account of this honor is also circulated; for I shall mention it, even if it may seem superfluous, and I will add it to my discourse as a kind of seasoning and an extraneous flower. After his arrival, a certain man was being carried into the city, holding the prefecture for a second time. This man was one of ours, since he was a Cappadocian, and a very famous man at that. I have no doubt that you know I am speaking of that Philagrius. Such, then, was the flame of the citizens' love for him that no other could be equal to it, nor could it be for any other; and the honor, to sum up the whole matter in a few words, was the manifestation of love.

^A And so, while the multitude was infinite, and like some sea which the eyes could not encompass, a certain person from the crowd—as is wont to happen on such occasions—is said to have addressed a friend and acquaintance, saying: "Tell me, my good sir, have you ever seen a population so large and so full of life poured out in honor of a single man?" The young man replied, "No; but in my opinion, not even Constantius ^B himself could have attained to this," as if the emperor's name signified the highest pinnacle of honor. The other, smiling very gently, said: "What are you saying, as if you were telling me something great and wonderful? I can hardly be brought to believe that even the great Athanasius would have been brought in with equal honor," and at the same time he added a certain local oath to confirm what he had said. The point of this remark, as I suspect is clear to you as well, was to place Athanasius even above the emperor himself.

XXIX. So great was the reverence for this man among all, and so stupendous was that entry of his which we are now recalling. ^C For, divided by sexes, ages, and crafts (for this city is accustomed to be arranged in this manner when it undertakes to honor some one publicly; and indeed, how could I describe the greatness of that spectacle in words?), they were all one river. A poet might even call it the Nile—the truly gold-flowing and grain-rich river—flowing backwards from the city towards Chæreus, a journey of one day, or even further. Allow me, I pray you, a little longer to delight in this narrative. For my soul lingers there, nor can I easily recall my discourse from that solemnity. ^D A colt was bearing him (and I beg you not to accuse me of madness), nearly in the same way as that other colt bore my Jesus (whether the word intends to signify the people from the Gentiles, whom He was pleased to mount, having loosed them from the bonds of ignorance, or whatever else it may mean)—and branches welcomed him,

and garments of many colors and various patterns were cast down and spread out before him—here, however, the lofty and costly was alone held in low esteem, and he had no equal. ^A This, too, was an image of the advent of Christ, as were those who went before him crying out, and those who danced—except that it was not merely a throng of children that greeted him with joyful acclamations, but every tongue, concordant and discordant, striving to outdo one another. For I will not speak of the public acclamations, the outpouring of perfumes, the all-night festivals, the whole city flashing with lights, the public and private banquets, and all the tokens of joy and cheerfulness by which cities signify their delight—things which, at that time, were extended to him most abundantly, and beyond what could be believed. Thus does that wonderful man enter his own city, and with such a celebration.

XXX. Did he then, in fact, live his life as it behooves those who are to preside over such a multitude of people? And did he teach, but not as he lived? Did he struggle, but not as he taught? Did he face danger, but less than those who had struggled for some doctrine? Was he honored less than he deserved for his struggles? And, finally, did any of the things from the time of his entry, after that entry, redound to his disgrace and ignominy? By no means. Everything was linked and connected together, as on a single lyre, and of the same harmony: his life, his word, his struggles, his dangers, the circumstances of his return, and the events that followed his return. ^B For as soon as he reached the Church, he was not affected in the same way as those are who, through the instability of anger, are blinded, and whatever they first chance upon, that same thing—regardless of its worth, or from whom they ought to restrain their hands—they push away or strike, so precipitous are they in their rage. But, deeming this time to be especially opportune for his own reputation for excellence (since it usually happens that he who is in adversity shows himself more moderate, while he who has obtained the power to retaliate acts more insolently), he managed the affairs of those by whom he had been harmed with such gentleness and humanity that not even to them, if it be possible to say so, was the return of the man disagreeable.

XXXI. He does indeed cleanse the temple of the traffickers in holy things and the traders in Christ, in order to imitate Christ in this as well—except that he does this not with a woven scourge, but with persuasive speech. He reconciles the ^C

^A parties contending against him and among themselves, without needing any of the peacemakers. He liberates those who had been harmed by tyranny, making no distinction between those who supported his own cause and those who followed the opposing side. Furthermore, he lifts up the fallen doctrine of the faith, so that the Trinity is once again proclaimed freely, placed upon a lampstand and illuminating all souls with the splendid light of the one divinity. He once again prescribes laws for the world, and turns all minds toward himself; to some, he sends letters, others he invites, and some who approach of their own accord he instructs, proposing to all a free will as the only law. For he believed this alone was sufficient to point the way toward virtue. To sum it up, he imitates the nature of two praiseworthy stones. For he becomes diamond to those who strike him, and a magnet to those who are divided, drawing iron by an ineffable natural force and taking to himself the hardest of all materials. ^B

XXXII. But it was not possible for envy to bear these things, nor could it endure to see the Church restored to its former glory and its ancient health, now that the divided parts had been closed over by a very swift scar, as if in a body. For this reason, it stirs up against him the fellow-apostate ^C emperor, one who was his equal in the same crime of defection and in wickedness, though later in time. He was the first of the Christian emperors to be struck with madness against Christ; and the basilisk of impiety, which he had long been carrying within himself, being suddenly unleashed as soon as the opportunity arose and he was declared emperor, he acted wickedly both toward the emperor who had entrusted him with the command of his faith and, even more wickedly, toward God to whom he owed his salvation. He devised the most terrible persecution of all that had ever occurred, insofar as he added persuasion and the blandishments of speech to his tyranny (for he even envied the martyrs the honors that are customary to bestow for their struggles), casting doubt upon the praise due for their fortitude by transferring the logical tropes and tricks to their character—or, to speak more truly, by transferring his own zeal from his character and the cunning of his intellect to those crimes, and by imitating the craft and manifold deceit of the demon who had his dwelling in his breast. For his part, he thought it a minor and undistinguished task to subject the whole Christian nation to his empire; but that it would be great and glorious if he were to overcome Athanasius and that power of ^D his concerning our Word. For he saw that nothing would be gained regarding our side by his own ingenuity, on account of that man's opposition and rebuttal; for he was always filling up the ranks of Christians that were being emptied, through the addition of Greek learning and through that man’s intelligence, which is indeed a marvel. Thinking on these things,

and seeing that that terrible sophist and persecutor no longer remained within the frame of his makeup or his sophistic servility; but having stripped away his wickedness, he openly banished the man from the city. For it was necessary that the one who had conquered in three contests ^A should receive a perfect reward and also be raised up.

XXXIII. No long time had passed when the avenging power of God sent that impious and sacrilegious man to the Persians, where he argued his case: and he who had sent him forth magnificent and burning with the desire for honor, brought him back dead, moving no one to pity; nay, as I have heard from someone, not even accepted for burial, but cast out by the earth which had been troubled on his account, and thrown aside by a violent heat: a prelude, I think, of the punishment hereafter. But another emperor arises, not of such shameless countenance ^B as the one of whom we spoke before, nor one who oppressed Israel with wicked deeds and taskmasters, but one endowed with great piety and gentleness; who, in order to lay the most beautiful foundation for his empire, and to make a beginning of lawfulness from where it was fitting, releases the bishops from exile, and all others, and before all, him who excelled all in virtue and who had been openly attacked for the sake of piety. He sought the truth of our faith, which had been torn asunder and confounded by many, and divided into many opinions and sects; so that he might, if possible, have the whole world in agreement, and come into one ^C through the cooperation of the Spirit; but if not, that he himself might at least join the best party, and at once bring strength to it, and receive it from it in turn, thinking in a most lofty and magnificent way about the greatest matters. And it was here that the purity of the man and the firmness of his faith in Christ were most clearly demonstrated. For while all others who professed our doctrine were divided three ways, and many were infirm in their faith regarding the Son, and more regarding the Holy Spirit—where even the lesser impiety was thought to be piety—and only a few were healthy and sound on both counts; he was the first and the only one, or at any rate with a very few, who dared [D ] the truth so clearly and explicitly, confessing in writing one divinity and substance of the three; and that which had previously been granted by the great number of the Fathers regarding the Son, he established.

^A And later, being himself divinely inspired concerning the Holy Spirit, he presented to the Emperor a gift truly royal and magnificent: a written confession of the faith against the new dogma nowhere expressed in Scripture, so that in this way an emperor might defeat an emperor, doctrine might defeat doctrine, and a document might defeat a document.

^B XXXIV. It seems to me that those who are moved by the authority of this confession include both the Westerners and whatever is still vital in the East. Some, indeed, cherish piety only as far as their own minds are concerned—if indeed any credit is to be given to their words of faith—but do not bring it any further, like a dead fetus dying within the mother’s womb. Others kindle it slightly, like a small spark, only so far as to satisfy the times, or the more fervent among the orthodox, or the devoutness of the populace. Others, finally, proclaim the truth with full freedom of speech; would that I might stand on this side—for I dare not boast of anything greater—no longer considering my own timidity, nor the cowardice and mental weakness of others (for we have dispensed enough and more than enough, not only by failing to associate outsiders with ourselves, but even by corrupting our own, which is truly the mark of bad stewards); but rather [I would] bring the offspring into the light and carefully nurture it, and set it before everyone's eyes, growing day by day.

XXXV. But this in him seems less worthy of admiration. For if one has exposed himself to dangers for the sake of defending the truth in deed, what is surprising if he confessed it also in writing? But what I am most overcome by in this man, and what cannot be passed over in silence without harm, especially in this present tempest when many contentions and dissensions are being born, I will add here to the foregoing. For this action may serve as a lesson for those who live now, if we propose him to ourselves as one to be imitated. For just as with one and the same water, not only is that part separated which the hand leaves behind while drawing, but also that which was grasped by the hand flows out through the fingers; in the same way, among us, not only those who cultivate impious doctrine are cut off, but even those who excel first and foremost in the praise of piety, and that not only over small and contemptible dogmas (for this would be a less grave matter), but even over words which tended to one and the same meaning. For while the one essence and the three hypostases are spoken of by us piously (the one indicating the nature of the Godhead, and the other the properties of the three ^D—and are understood similarly by the Italians, yet because of the narrowness

of their language and the poverty of terms, they could not distinguish "hypostasis" from "essence," and thus it came to pass that, so as not to seem to admit three substances, they introduced the term "persons") ^A, what then happened? A thing truly ridiculous, or rather to be lamented. That light and empty altercation concerning the sound of words presented the appearance of a divided faith. Thence, for this reason, Sabellianism was devised on account of the three "persons," and Arianism on account of the three "hypostases"—figments of a spirit of contention. What then? As some small thing was added daily to that which causes pain (for contention brings forth pain), the matter was brought to such a pass that there was a danger that the ends of the earth might be rent asunder along with the syllables. When that blessed man, and true man of God, and great dispenser of souls, beheld and heard these things with his own eyes and ears, he did not think it right to overlook such an absurd and irrational ^B partitioning of the Word; rather, he applied a remedy for the malady as quickly as possible. How, then, does he do this? Having called both parties together in such a mild and kind manner, and having examined the mind of what was being said truly and accurately, since he found them to be in agreement and in no way differing in doctrine, he granted the use of the terms, but bound them together in the realities.

XXXVI. On the Praise of Athanasius

XXXVI. This is more useful than those long-drawn-out labors and discourses which everyone is now committing to writing; discourses which are not free from ambition, and perhaps for this reason some novelty is introduced concerning the doctrine of the faith. This is more excellent than those many vigils and nights spent on the ground, the utility of which is confined to those who perform them and does not spread more widely. This is to be reckoned as no ^C whit inferior to his highly heralded and famous exiles and flights. For he applied himself to the same pursuits, for the sake of which he had chosen to suffer those calamities, even after the calamities themselves. Nay, he did not cease to do this very same thing in others: raising some with praises, while striking others sparingly and lightly; rousing the sloth of some, and curbing the fervor of others; providing for some, lest they should fall, and devising a plan for others, that they might be raised up if they had fallen; simple in manner, manifold in the art of governance; wise in speech, wiser in thought; unassuming to the more humble, ^D higher to those who were more exalted; hospitable, an intercessor,

complex; wise in his words, wiser in his soul; if he were dealing with those of lower status, he would descend to their capacity; if with those gifted with a more lofty mind, he would rise higher; the leader of guests, a suppliant, a depeller of evils—he alone truly embraced all those things which the Gentiles attribute to their own gods. I will also add that he is a patron of those married and of virgins, and a peacemaker and reconciler, and a guide for those who are hastening from this life to the next. O what an abundance of names his virtue provides for me, while I seek to catch a surname for him from every side! ^B

XXXVII. But when he had held such a course of life, and had been so instructed, and had instructed others, that his life and manner of customs served as a rule for the episcopacy, and his dogmas were held as the law of orthodox faith, what reward for his piety did he finally receive? For this is not to be passed over in neglect. He closed his life in a good old age, and was joined to his fathers, the patriarchs, and prophets, and apostles, and martyrs who had contended for the truth. And, to sum up a sort of epitaph in a few words, he was graced with more excellent honor at his departure than he had been adorned with upon his entry into the city; indeed, he stirred up many tears, but he laid up in the minds of all a glory of his name greater than those things which fall under sight. But, O dear and sacred head—you, I say, who beyond your other praises have excellently cultivated the measure of speech and silence—do you set the end here for our Oration, which, if it has by no means attained the excellence of your virtues, yet is certainly not inferior to our powers. And oh that you yourself, benign and placid, would look down upon us from above and govern this people, making them a perfect worshiper of the perfect Trinity, which is understood and worshipped in the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit; and as for us, if things are to be peaceful, keep us in life and pasture the flock with me; but if the Church be ablaze with wars, lead us back or take us up, and place us with yourself and with those like you, even though it be a great thing that I ask, in Christ himself our Lord, to whom be all glory, honor, and power unto the ages. Amen. ^C

MONITUM ON ORATIONS XXII AND XXIII

I. These orations are inscribed "On Peace." Gregory had already delivered another oration at Nazianzus inscribed "On Peace," when the monks, having been distracted from him on account of a formula signed by Gregory the father which smelled of Arian fraud, had returned to unity. Now, however, it is not the same cause that inflames the zeal of the Theologian. For besides the war against the heretics, there was also raging in these times a mournful schism among the Catholics themselves, some of whom were attempting to draw Gregory "to Paul," others "to Apollo." By "Paul and Apollo" here, it is rightly understood by scholars that Melitius and Paulinus are meant, who were contending for the Antiochene bishopric, and...