In Praise of Hero the Philosopher

and a voice of exultation ^A, and a purer and more complete illumination of the divinity, which we now enjoy only in riddles and shadows. Cyprian is more delighted by this kind of honor than by all others gathered together. This gift he practiced in his life and customs both while he was among men, and now that he is absent, he commends it to all through my voice—a voice which, I beseech you, do not despise or hold of no account, if you have any regard for his endurance in the bitterness of his sufferings, or for the struggles he undertook in defense of virtue, or for me, who am performing this embassy before you. You have, O divine and holy soul, the first-fruits of my words. You have the prize both for your doctrine and for your struggle: not the Olympic olive, nor the Peloponnesian apples, nor the Isthmian pine, nor the Nemean ^B celery, with which wretched youths were once adorned, but an oration—the thing most appropriate for the servants of the Word; and if it has attained the merit of your struggles and doctrines, I attribute this to the Word. But do you look down upon us graciously from above, and direct our words and life, and pastor this holy flock, or assist him who pastors, guiding him in all other things, as far as possible, toward all that is best, and warding off those heavy wolves, those captors of syllables and words; and procure for us the fuller and brighter splendor of the holy Trinity, at which you now stand—the Trinity which we adore, which we celebrate, ^C and in which we have our citizenship, adoring the Father in the Son, and the Son in the holy Spirit; and may we ourselves, when our struggle is over, stand beside it, pure and free from all stumbling, that we may enjoy it perfected in a perfect way, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be all glory, honor, and power for ever and ever. Amen.

NOTICE ON ORATION XXV

I. Although it is certain that Maximus was celebrated by Gregory, we nevertheless do not change the title of this oration. For all the manuscripts—at least those we have seen—without exception, and with no scholiast or interpreter protesting, display the name not of "Maximus," but of "Hero." Therefore, we believe that the received reading of the inscription must be religiously retained. It is worth the effort to investigate what the mind of the learned has been regarding this inscription. Jerome asserts (66) that Gregory in this oration sang the praises of the philosopher Maximus, and he openly declares that the name of "Hero" was falsely written above it by someone; and that this happened "because there was another book containing a vituperation of the same Maximus."

^A Likewise, the holy Doctor adds, "it was not permitted him both to praise and to vituperate the same man at the same time." But Billius (67), although he does not deny that the praises of Maximus are contained in this oration, nevertheless thinks that the name of Maximus was not changed by someone else, but by Gregory himself on purpose, "so that," he says, "the name of a most ungrateful man might not exist in his monuments;" and he marvels that this was not observed by Elias. But this kind of argument seems altogether feeble and weak, especially since Gregory himself, to omit other things, elsewhere does not deny "that he had praised Maximus" (68). Others, among whom is Tillemont, conjecture that this philosopher was known by two names, being called Hero among the Egyptians, from whence he originated, and Maximus at Constantinople, where he became too famous. Perhaps this conjecture of most learned men might seem more probable; but the opinion of Jerome, so expressly recorded, still holds us in suspense. For if Maximus had truly been known by two names, who would believe, as Tillemont himself (68*) observes, that Jerome, who associated so familiarly with Gregory at Constantinople, was ignorant of it?

II. Cyril of Scythopolis, in the *Life of Saint Euthymius and Saint Sabas*, among the chronologists, after Hippolytus and Epiphanius, places a certain "Hero, a philosopher and confessor." Hence Cotelerius, conjecturing thus, notes (69): "Neither am I ashamed to be ignorant of what was unknown to men by far the most learned; nor will I remain silent about my own conjecture, or, if you will, my divination, whether this philosopher and confessor Hero is the Maximus the Cynic whom Gregory the Theologian praises under these names in his oration; and who, as Jerome bears witness, wrote a remarkable book against the Arians, and perhaps left behind other monuments of his genius, and inserted somewhere into his works something chronological, on account of which he is cited by our author along with Hippolytus and Epiphanius." But we do not think that this should be rashly attributed to this conjecture, since nothing is found in Jerome concerning this chronology of Maximus or Hero. For it would first have to be proven that Hero, who is cited by Cyril among the chronologists, was in truth the same [person as] Maximus the Cynic; which seems to us truly very difficult, not to say impossible, to prove. It would not indeed be miraculous that certain Maximi or Heroes, philosophers and confessors, existed in nearly the same times; but what is most to be wondered at is that Gregory, who in other encomia, both of Athanasius and Cyprian, calls them frequently by their proper names, did not once name either Maximus or Hero in this oration. Perhaps, therefore, it would be better to adhere simply to Jerome's opinion than to be perpetually hanging upon conjectures. ^B

III. It may also be objected whether the Maximus praised by Gregory is the same as the one to whom the honorable epistles of Athanasius and Basil exist. As far as Athanasius is concerned, we do not altogether agree with our contemporaries who have prepared the new edition of the works of the holy Doctor. For they advise thus on this matter (70): "This philosopher Maximus, to whom Saint Athanasius sends an epistle, does not seem to be any other, in truth, than that Alexandrian whose praises Gregory celebrates in his oration, whose name was later suppressed, and, as Jerome narrates, the false name of Hero was written above it." But if Athanasius’s own epistle, as well as the circumstances of the time and events, are carefully weighed, many things will occur which little favor their opinion. And first, there is no doubt that this Maximus, in the book which he sent to Athanasius, taught many things, not only against the Arians but also against the Gentiles, Jews, Manichæans, and other heretics. This is gathered from the very response of Athanasius. For the holy Doctor admits that, in dictating the response, he borrows from that very book whatever he treats concerning the divinity of Christ. He also thinks that nothing should be added to the writing of Maximus. "They are sufficient," he says (71), "which you yourself have written. But do you duly instruct the infidels, ἀπίστους. For perhaps it will happen that, their ignorance abandoned, they may arrive at a knowledge of the truth." Furthermore, he praises the piety, doctrine, and ardent zeal for the truth of Maximus; which surely cannot be referred to our Cynic. Moreover, Athanasius was writing to his Maximus, as it appeared to our contemporaries, in the year 371, and he departed from the living in the year 373. But at that time Maximus the Cynic had not yet assumed the mask of piety, since not until the year 379, returning from exile, was he received at Constantinople by Gregory. Therefore, Athanasius did not write to Maximus the Cynic, as his editors falsely thought. ^C

IV. Much less difficulty occurs regarding that Maximus to whom Saint Basil wrote. To fully untie the knot, it will be sufficient to reveal the morals and character of both Maximi. Basil’s Maximus was indeed a philosopher, not a Cynic, or one from the Porch, but a Christian. "From a foreign root," says Basil (71*), "from an ample family and an illustrious race, he was transferred to the evangelical life" (that is, in the parlance of the holy Fathers, to the monastic life), "he restrained his youth with reason, he subjected the lust of the flesh to the empire of reason, and embraced a humility consistent with a Christian." So great was his piety, so great his zeal for virtue and religion, that Basil himself, had he not been burdened by old age and infirmity, and hindered by the various cares of the Church, would have betaken himself to him with a desire to visit him. This is Basil’s Maximus. But how much that other Maximus, or Hero, whom Gregory celebrated differs from him! For he was Egyptian by birth, an Alexandrian by country, clear by no nobility of blood, although he had parents who were not only Christians, but even, if faith is to be given to the wicked son, ^D

[ORATION XXV. — IN PRAISE OF HERON THE PHILOSOPHER]

^A and parents, was not only a Christian, but one of Christ’s martyrs, he was by profession a philosopher, though certainly not a Christian, but a Cynic. We shall say nothing here of his shameless character, his gluttony, his vice, and his ignorance, all of which Gregory treats at length in his *Poem on his own life* (72), where he retracts his praises. This man, indeed, due to certain shameful crimes, was beaten with rods around the year 374, and afterwards deported to the island of the Oasis; from whence, having escaped after four years and wandered far, leaving behind him everywhere the traces of his wickedness, he finally arrived at Constantinople in the year 379. Cloaked under the guise of piety and religion, he approached Gregory, and feigned that he had endured scourging and exile for the name of Christ. The Theologian, deceived by his deceits and simulations, received him lovingly, enrolled him among his intimate friends, and subsequently delivered this oration in his praise.

V. It must truly seem to everyone a wonder how greatly Gregory was deluded by Maximus. For, if no other contrary records existed regarding this Cynic, one would certainly have to think well of him. For thus the orator begins: "I will praise the philosopher," and, having briefly set forth the advantages and utility of philosophy, addressing Maximus who was present, he continues (n. 2): "Come hither, O most excellent of philosophers, and indeed of the martyrs of the truth... Come hither, confuter of adulterous wisdom... Come hither, you who in a foreign garb profess our own... Come hither, and approach more closely to the mystic table... Come hither, that I may bind you with our crowns, and with a clear voice, not in the midst of Olympia, nor in the narrow theater of Greece, but before God, and the angels, and the whole assembly of the Church, I may proclaim you a victor." Who, upon hearing such things, would not admire Maximus as an athlete of the truth, a shield of the faith, a pillar of the Church, a most bitter enemy of error, and a most firm bulwark of divinity? Then the Theologian (n. 3) extols not his "blood," but "the nobility of his piety and character"; and running through whatever afflictions and exiles the hypocrite claimed to have suffered for Christ, he presents him to his audience as a martyr of Christ and an exemplar of all virtues. But truly, Gregory’s error is to be pardoned, into which he fell all the more easily as he himself was more guileless. For upright men readily believe in goodness, while they are slow and tardy in suspecting any evil. His error, I say, is to be pardoned, of which Gregory so repented that he not only recanted the praises with which he had celebrated Maximus, but even offered his "tongue to be cut out" (73), and sentenced himself to silence if he were not granted forgiveness. Moreover, in this oration, the orator inserts many things concerning the Church’s persecution under the Arian emperors, which are certainly more worthy than what he celebrated concerning the Cynic. We think it was delivered at Constantinople at the end of the year 379, with the learned present.

ORATION XXV. In praise of Heron the philosopher.

^A I. I shall praise the philosopher, even if I am weary in body: for he is a philosopher; and I shall praise him most deservedly. For he is a philosopher, and I a servant of wisdom; so that my praise is for the sake of the Word, so that, if nothing else, I may philosophize this at least: to admire a philosopher. For either one must philosophize, as in my argument, or honor philosophy, if we do not intend to fall altogether far from the good, nor to be condemned for unreasonableness, having been born reasonable and speeding through the Word toward the Word. And may this man philosophize for us as one of the others in being praised, and endure the eulogy. For we shall not praise him to grant a favor (we know the philosopher’s lack of desire for honors, and indeed the discourse would add nothing to the facts (76), except that it might even diminish his dignity (77) through its own weakness), but so that we might benefit ourselves.

^B For this [is not...]

despise and count for naught such a thing, since its very task and study are to earn distinction in human life. The first way of earning distinction is the commendation of honorable things. For praise ^A begets zeal; zeal, virtue; and virtue, blessedness; and this is the summit of things desired, and toward which every motion of the upright man strives.

II. Come now, therefore, O best and most perfect of philosophers—and I shall add, of the martyrs of the truth. Come, confute for me that counterfeit wisdom which consists merely in words and which, through the allurements of speech (79), scatters tricks like a veil, yet is able or willing to construct nothing beyond this. You, who are dextrous in virtue—in as much as it consists of both contemplation and action—who professes our philosophy in a foreign habit; or perhaps not even a foreign one, if the whiteness and splendor of garments ^B are angelic when they are depicted in bodily form; a symbol, I believe, of their natural purity. Come to me, philosopher and wise man (for how long will that love of wisdom be boasted of, if wisdom is nowhere to be found?), and be a dog (82), not in impudence, but in freedom of speech; not in gluttony, but in living for the day; not in barking, but in the keeping of what is good, and in the wakefulness undertaken for the salvation of souls; and furthermore, in the fact that you soothe those who are familiar and domestic in virtue, but bark at those who are strangers. Come, stand near these holy things (83) and this mystic table, and near me, who through these fulfill the sacred office of deification; draw closer, to which discourse, and life, and the purification that is acquired through suffering lead you. Come, that I may bind you with our crowns, and proclaim you with a clear voice, not in the midst of Olympia, nor in a small theater of Greece, nor having contended in the pancration, or boxing, or the foot-race, or any of those lesser competitions, and for small prizes, nor for the honor of some hero (84) or demons, who are honored by calamity and myth (for such are those things that are honorably proclaimed concerning them, having received time as an ^C aid to folly (85) and an established custom); but in the presence of God, and angels, and the whole fullness of the Church; and, having conquered the falsehood of heresies, to the honor of the living God, and the...

instruction of those who are to be trained by his own sufferings, and for whom the prize is the kingdom of heaven, and to become God, being higher than any sense of pain. ^A

III. What, however, is this proclamation? If you seek a briefer and better-known one, it is of this kind: This is a most true athlete of the truth, and a champion of the Trinity even unto blood, and a pursuer of those who were persecuting him, by the alacrity with which he underwent the wrongs they inflicted; for nothing so overcomes the persecutor as the alacrity of the one who suffers. But if you demand a more complete and fuller one: This man is the best of the best, and the noblest of the noble. By nobility, I do not mean that which the many imagine: far be it! It is not ours, nor is it philosophical, to admire that which flows from myths and tombs and from eyebrows long since rotted away, nor that which arises from blood and letters, which nights bestow, and which perhaps the hands of kings—or even of those who are not noble—command to be nobility, as if it were some other thing. ^B Rather, I mean that which piety and character mark and indicate, and which is an ascent toward that primary Good from which we have drawn our origin. There is one proof of this nobility: for he is not only an athlete of ours of noble birth, but he is also from martyrs, so that he had before him at home the paradigm of virtue. As for his city, if the consideration of wisdom is to be held, he is a citizen of the whole world (for the Cynic spirit does not endure to be circumscribed by narrow borders); ^C but if we look at the body, he is a native of the city of the Alexandrians, which is reckoned immediately with yours, or certainly after it—a city which, while excelling all cities in all things, yet has nothing so characteristic as the fervor of its souls, and that which is most excellent in it, Christianity, and the disposition regarding this, which begins from the will but is confirmed by nature. For when fervor is added to piety, it becomes zeal; and zeal is the safeguard of faith. ^D

IV. Having been nourished and educated in this way, as was to be expected for one born of such stock and who was to become such a man, and since the time seemed to demand that he should establish for himself a definite way of life (which I consider to be of such great moment that I believe the foundation for the right or wrong conducting of the whole of life is placed in it), he began to ponder something greater and more noble than is customary for the many. For he despises delights, and wealth, and power more than those who excel in these things usually despise others. And he regards and casts away delights as the primary hardship and affliction, wealth as the extreme poverty, and power as the highest weakness. For nothing truly possesses the name of good if it neither makes its possessors better—but rather, as a rule, worse—nor remains with those who have it to the end. He takes upon himself philosophy, the mistress of the passions, and approaches the Good in a courageous manner, and...

before he is separated from the mass of the body, he separates himself from the mass of the body, rises above things seen by the eyes, and dedicates his whole self, through the greatness of his character and the generosity of his will, to firm and stable things. Having thus established himself in his soul, he did not even admit into his deliberation which philosophy he ought rather to follow—the external and profane one, which in the habit and guise of philosophy simulates the shadows of truth, or our own, which is indeed humble in appearance and abject, but in its hidden aspect is sublime and leads to God. ^B Indeed, he immediately chooses our own by all votes, so to speak, in no way allowing his mind to be turned toward worse things, nor to be distracted by the elegance of well-ordered speech, on account of which those who profess the doctrines of the Gentiles exalt their minds. This, however, he first philosophizes about: to know which of our own ways is both the more eligible and the more profitable, both for himself and for all Christians. For he believed it to be the mark of a most perfect and most wise soul to have a rationale that unites private utility with public advantage. For he thought that no one of us is born for himself alone, but also for all who are partakers of the same nature, and who have been created by the same One, and for the same ends.

V. Furthermore, when he saw that the private and solitary life, remote and alien from the commerce of the multitude, is indeed great and noble and higher than human affairs, yet remains fixed ^C within those who perform this kind of life with praise, and rejects the communion of charity and philanthropy, which he knew to be among the first of the virtues to be praised; and that it possesses this further disadvantage, that the virtue of those who live in such a way cannot be tested, since it is neither exercised in the conduct of affairs nor comes into comparison with others;—on the other hand, the life that enjoys the society and frequency of men, besides the fact that many things occur daily in which one can make trial of one's own virtue, is also diffused for the utility of many, and approaches near to the divine dispensation, which founded the whole mass of things, bound them with the bonds of friendship, and our race—which, on account of the approach of vice, had been thrust down and cast away from the good—recalled to its pristine dignity ^D through that familiarity and custom of life which He had with us: when he revolved and weighed these things in his soul, and at the same time deemed it worth the effort to repress the pride and insolence of the Greeks, who put on a show of gravity with their cloak and promised beard, what does he do, and

^A VI. For this reason, he sends away and repels as far as possible the schools of the Peripatetics, the Academies, and the venerable Stoa, together with the random chance of Epicurus, along with his atoms and pleasure, having crowned them with wool (as a certain poet of theirs crowned their own poet), and casts them aside. As for the Cynic sect, having spat out its impiety while praising its austerity, this is what you now see: a dog against those who are truly dogs, a philosopher against the unwise, and a Christian for the sake of all, overcoming the arrogance of the former by the similarity of his habit, and refuting the absurdity of some of our own by the novelty of his dress, showing that piety does not consist in small things, nor philosophy in a gloomy countenance, but in the firmness of the soul, the purity of the mind, and a genuine inclination toward the good. Whatever our outward form may be, and with whomever we may converse, whether we retire our minds ^B from the senses while alone, or whether we live in the midst of the common crowd of men as if in secret, while we dwell among those who do not philosophize at all, we cultivate the study of philosophy. And just as that ark of Noah, which in the flood escaped the force of the flood, and that great spectacle of Moses, that is, the bush of the mountain which the burning fire did not consume, in the same way we too should contract no harm from the contagion of the crowd—just as a diamond is not affected by those who strike it—and should strive to the best of our ability that others may be made better through us. The fruit of this philosophy is not cities fashioned by speech (a kind of "scindapsus," as they themselves say, and "tragelaphs," which language alone constructs), nor certain categories, analyses, and mixtures; nor symbamata and parasymbamata, and that technologized wisdom; nor lines that exist nowhere, nor the weaving of stars and ^C figures devised against the Providence of God. For he always held these things to be of secondary importance, and touched upon them only in passing and as if in jest, and only to the extent that he might not be mocked and derided by those who profess to hold the knowledge of these things.

^A VII. But what was his primary and most ancient study? To argue for right and justice before those in authority, and to use freedom of speech before kings, just as that excellent David once did, who spoke before kings and was not confounded [*]; to restrain the foolishness of the common crowd, which is agitated like the waves of the sea, the power of those holding authority as they rage, the infirmity of those factions that are in revolt, the boorishness of the uneducated, the arrogance of the learned, riches that insolently exalt themselves, satiety that behaves petulantly and insultingly, poverty that is prone to wrongdoing, an anger that is headlong and carries away the reason, the immoderation of pleasure, the incontinence of laughter, the heavy anxiety of grief, the instability of youth, the sloth of old age, the imbecility of mind, the solitude of widowhood, and the desperation of childlessness. ^B Will not any man in his right mind prefer these things, by a great margin, to syllogisms and lines, and to the gaping gaze at the stars? Let him consider this: for if everyone gathered together to devote their study and effort to the conclusion of syllogisms, or to geometry, or to astronomy, our life would benefit nothing from this; nay, rather, it would be necessary for all things to be dissolved and brought to ruin. Conversely, if those duties which I have enumerated were removed from our midst, there would be a total disturbance and confusion of all things. Why is it necessary to say how much more sublime and excellent these [virtues] are than the vanity of Antisthenes, the gluttony of Diogenes, and the promiscuous marriage of Crates? Yet, out of reverence for their names, let us spare them too, so that they themselves might also derive some fruit from this man’s philosophy. But as for us, so that we may cut to the middle—that is, to his temperance, his continence, his modesty, the sweetness of his character, his affability, his humanity, and the other virtues in which he surpassed all mortals—let us turn our discourse to that which is indeed last in order, but first in dignity and power.

^C VIII. There was once that time when we were in a state of calm from the storms of heresies, when those [followers of] Simon and Marcion, and certain Valentinians, and the Basilidians, and the Cerdonians, and Cerinthians too, and Carpocratians, and all the nonsense and trickery surrounding them—who for a very long time had divided the God of all things, and had waged war for the sake of the "Good" against the Creator—were at length swallowed up by their own abyss, as was meet, and were consigned to silence. The evil spirit of Montanus, too, and the darkness of Manes, and the boldness, or rather "purity," of Novatus, and the evil assertion of the monarchy by Sabellius, had yielded and withdrawn, the one having been consigned to an opposing faction, and the others having been utterly despised.

^A Part of it was set aside, and the rest was utterly despised and discarded because of its own weakness. Nor did anything else cause trouble to the Church. For persecutions render the Church herself more illustrious and more brilliant through the sufferings. But not much time passed before another storm was raised against the Church—that is to say, that whirlwind of injustice, that complement of impiety, that legion of spirits, that tongue hostile to Christ, that mind which spoke iniquity into the height, that slicer of the Godhead—whose undertaking was indeed terrible, but even more terrible was his death, worthy of the betrayal of Judas, which he dared to perpetrate against the Author of our salvation: Arius, I mean, he who was aptly named after his madness. This man, having taken his beginning from the city of the Alexandrians, and having there conceived his pestilential dogma, ^B then, like some wild flame, having run over a large part of the inhabited world from a small spark, was finally suppressed and extinguished by our Fathers, by that pious company which at that time gathered at Nicaea and established the theology within defined limits and terms.

Θ. Once again an evil reign, and once again evil revives, and just like wounds that are festering and badly covered over, it is opened and breaks forth. And grievous wolves, seizing us from here and there, tear apart the Church. Priests are armed against priests, and the populace is carried away against the populace with a raging impetus; the emperor himself gives authority to impiety, and institutes laws against the orthodox doctrine; and so too those who are to be counted in the number of neither men nor women, whose power was great with him. Who indeed could lament the evils of that time according to their worth? The exiles, the proscriptions of goods, the marks of infamy, the infinite multitude of people, and even entire cities which held their assemblies in desert places, and were hard-pressed by miseries under the open sky, and were afflicted by rains and cold, and were even compelled to move their feet from there? For not even the solitude protected them from the fear of danger. ^C Who, that I may bring forward even graver things, could speak of the tortures, the deaths, the triumphs held over bishops, monks, men, women, the young, and the elderly? For what shall I say of those nobles who would at one moment devise new torments, and at another add some measure of bitterness to those which had already been devised, and showed themselves to be ministers of impiety, to whom this one thing was usually enough for glory and the splendor of their name: that they had surpassed the will of the emperor with their own cruelty?

Ι. Now indeed the brilliant persecution had an end, and

Persia rightly judged our cause, having suppressed and extinguished that impious and detestable man, and having exacted the penalty of much blood for one man’s blood. But now a shameful and base persecution arises ^A which, under the pretext of defending the Christian faith, commits acts of impiety and attacks the true Christians; and it is more grievous than the former one, in that the former struggle was more manifest and more brilliant, whereas now even the suffering is inglorious, at least in the judgment of those who are not just judges of such trials. Do you wish that I should draw tears from this audience—and perhaps even from him who is most stout-hearted and superior to suffering—by recounting one of the events that occurred at that time? I have many witnesses to this account, for the tragedy of this suffering reached many, and if I am not mistaken, the posterity of all ages shall receive the history of that time.

A ship, carrying one presbyter—and that one not for any crime, but in danger for the sake of the faith—is committed to the sea, not to save the passenger, but to destroy him. And the cargo is willing, for he is a man of piety. And fire is added as a companion to the cargo, and the persecutor delights in the novelty ^B of this punishment. Alas for the spectacle! Alas for the drama! The ship is on the high seas; the theater is on the shore, where some rejoice, while others lament. How could I express such a great event in a few words and place it before your eyes? The fire is kindled, the ship is consumed along with its burden, fire is mingled with water, and contrary things unite for the punishment of a pious man, and two elements divide one body, and in a new and unheard-of manner a torch is raised over the sea. To this, perhaps, some person approached, thinking it gentle and kind; but having approached, he found a pitiable and unbelievable sight: a voyage without a helmsman, a shipwreck without a storm; and the presbyter is ashes, or rather, not even ashes, scattered as he was in the waters. And the dignity of the priesthood was not worth enough to gain him at least a more honorable death, or if not death, certainly burial, which is owed even to impious and sacrilegious men. Such was the impious man’s maritime expedition; this was the end of the pious man. And never did holy fire descend from heaven, nor did it take vengeance upon the one who ^C flourished such a torch against those sailing!

XI. But why do I collect outside examples? It is time to come to your own conflict, and to those struggles tolerated by you for the sake of piety, which you have added to your former virtues like a brilliant seal. The evil of this heresy was flourishing in your city, from which

^A it also had its origin. But after the Triad took to itself that most holy eye of the world, that high priest of priests, that leader and teacher of your confession through the struggles he undertook for the defense of the orthodox faith, that sublime voice, that pillar of the faith, that second lamp and forerunner of Christ—if it is right to say so—having fallen asleep in a good old age and full of the days of those who live according to God, after calumnies, after contests, after that hand celebrated by every mouth, after the "living dead" ^B—The Trinity, which he had worshipped throughout his whole life and for which he had exposed himself to dangers, translated him to itself (I have no doubt that you recognize Athanasius from these words)—then a second plague and scourge of Egypt, I mean that traitor of the truth, that shepherd of wolves, that thief climbing over the sheepfold, that second Arius, that turbid and bitter overthrow, that river more abundant than an ungodly fountain, introduced himself into the Church. It grieves me indeed to recount those abominations which were then committed, and the nefarious slaughters with which that wild beast invaded the most holy throne, and the preludes of his pestiferous entry; yet from many things I lament a few, which you also lament with me, and have already lamented before, using the words of the divine David: "O God, the nations have come into your inheritance; they have defiled your holy temple," and what follows: "They set the dead bodies of your servants as food for the birds, and the flesh of your holy ones for the wild beasts of the earth." ^C But I will also add from him those things from another lamentation and from a different psalm: "How many things the enemy has wrought wickedly in your sanctuary, and they that hate you have boasted in the midst of your solemnity." For how did they not boast? And how did they not defile your holy temple with manifold calamities and all kinds of evils?

XII. A man impious and lawless discharged the duty of leader, not even bearing the name of Christian (for this is the most unworthy thing of all the abuse), but rushing from the idols to the temple of God, from impure bloods to things more abominable and detestable, and perhaps performing this abuse against us as a kind of sacrifice, offering it to the demons. ^D A force burning with rage marched into battle, a strange and savage army against men unarmed and unskilled in war. The priest, the successor of the holy man, who had been anointed by the law and order of the Spirit, and honored with gray hair and prudence, was being thrust out; and there reigned Tabeel, the heir...

^A of strange things. Against holy things, weapons; against things which it was a sin to plunder, impure hands; against the psalms, the clangor of trumpets. Consider for me the things that followed these: men falling in the holy places; women trampled underfoot, some of them even with the burden of nature, premature births—or, to speak more appositely, not births!; virgins dragged off in a wretched manner, tormented in a way yet more foul—I am ashamed even to speak of the manner, both for women and for men, and to lay bare in speech the hidden things of shame, for which, even when they were laid bare, I am ashamed—some casting themselves into the wells inside the temple, others throwing themselves headlong from a higher spot because of the indignity of the things they were witnessing, others, finally, collapsing in heaps upon those who were already lying there. Add slaughters to slaughters, falls to falls; holy things trampled by profane feet, altars insulted by obscene gestures and ^B lewd songs, and, as I hear—what will this bold tongue utter?—even dances and leaps upon them. Add tongues speaking blasphemy from the sacred thrones, mysteries mocked, psalmodies compressed by silence, groans raised in their place, streams of blood, fountains of tears, priests led away, monks torn to pieces—in short, the very image of that incursion by which the Assyrians once ravaged holy Jerusalem; an image which neither speech can worthily represent nor ear can receive, but which requires solely a mind and voice like Jeremiah’s to lament it as it deserves. For he, too, seeks fountains of tears, and from the walls calls forth lamentations over such sufferings, and lays mourning upon the ways of Zion, which no longer lead those celebrating festivals.

XIII.

^A—you have finally, caught up in the madness of impious power (o noble calamity! o your sacred wounds!), been torn with scourges on your fair and comely body; yet you were as one who looks on while another suffers. And although your visible part was bent, you were not cast down in your unseen part; rather, you inscribed your fortitude before the eyes of all as if upon a pillar, and even while silent (for your tongue could no longer perform its office), you offered yourself as a teacher of constancy.

XIV. What next? You are banished from your fatherland—you, who perceive neither any land as your own nor any as foreign, in my opinion, so that others might be educated in piety through you. The Oasis—that inhumane solitude, I say, yet now a holy seat on account of you—is decreed as your place of exile. Come then, since you have distributed the blessings of your return, see that you also share with us the blessings of your exile. Convert your return into a theater for us. Whom did you teach to philosophize there? From whom did you purge impious opinions? Whom did you lead to piety? I think I see that school there, the ceremony surrounding you, and the great crowd of people. I would like you to tell me this also: were there any present to bring some solace to the remains of your body? Or were you also practicing poverty? Did you have any associates in your contest? Or did you endure the lack of this also with an equable mind? Were you held by a longing for your sisters, your associates in both chastity and fortitude? Or, on the contrary, were you of too sublime a mind to require their company and fellowship? Did the solitude of your mother, worn by age, soften you? Or did you rather possess a firm and confident spirit, as one who had left them piety as the greatest protection of life? ^C But since you have returned to us as is right, and He who honors those who honor Him—and who provokes those who provoke Him, and who performs the will of those who fear Him, and who breathes resurrection into the dead; He who resurrected Lazarus after four days, and you after four years, beyond all hope, and who, according to the vision of Ezechiel, that most ^D admirable and exalted of all the prophets, connects bone with bone and joint with joint—has restored you, the longed-for one, to us who long for you: act so that you may persevere in the same studies of life and the same freedom of speech, lest otherwise you appear to have been broken and weakened by your calamities, and to have betrayed philosophy through cowardice.

^A XV. Confute the superstition of the Gentiles and the impiety of those who worship many gods, as before, both the old and the new gods, and their obscene fables, and their more obscene sacrifices, of those who purge mud with mud, as I have heard one of them say—I mean those who purge their own bodies with the bodies of brute animals—and their venerated images, and their indecent frauds. If these define the Godhead, then, O wretched and lost men! But if they are only designating it, O heap of misery! And if they are merely pointing to it, O singular folly! Let them teach us, what is the rationale and what is the mystery of the shame surrounding these things? For even the mere appearances of honorable things ought not to contain anything shameful. But if they assert that there is something else besides these, let them prove what this is, and from what writings or theologians they have drawn it.

Break also the onsets of the heresies that are now insurgent, and do so all the more keenly because you have already been practiced in tribulations. For a philosophical mind becomes more noble from what it has suffered, and, like white-hot iron in cold water, it is hardened by dangers. ^B Indeed, prescribe the doctrine of our piety, instructing us so that we may acknowledge one unbegotten God, that is, the Father; and one begotten Lord, the Son, who is indeed called God when he is spoken of by himself, but Lord when he is named with the Father—the former for the sake of his nature, the latter for the sake of the unique monarchy of the Godhead. And one Holy Spirit, proceeding or issuing from the Father, who is also God himself to those who mentally conceive the things that are near; though he is opposed by the impious, he is conceived of by those who rise above them, and is even preached by those who are more spiritual. Prescribe also this: that we do not attribute a beginning to the Father, lest we introduce something prior to the First, from which it would be necessary for even that which is first to perish; nor may we assert that the Son or the Holy Spirit are without beginning, lest we strip the Father of that which is his own. For they are not without beginning, and yet in a way they are—which is certainly a paradox. They are not without beginning regarding the Cause, for they are from God, even if not after him, just as light is from the sun; but they are without beginning in time. For they are not subject to time, lest that which flows be prior to that which stands, and that which is devoid of substance prior to substances. ^C XVI. Neither let us establish three principles, lest we should have something of the Greek, or the ^D Father’s [portion]—

or rather, lest we should fall into a Gentile multitude of gods: nor, on the other hand, one [principle] that is Judaic, ^A narrow, envious, and feeble—either by absorbing the Deity into itself, as it pleased those who indeed produce the Son from the Father, but then dissolve Him again into the Father; or by casting down the natures and alienating them from the Deity, as seems good to the wise of this time, just as if the Deity itself feared lest they might rise up against It, or possessed no power above created things. Nor, again, let us call the Son unbegotten, for one is the Father Who is unbegotten; nor the Spirit the Son, for one is the Only-Begotten; in order that they may have this as their divine [mark]: the singleness—the one of Sonship, the other of procession, and not of Sonship. Truly a Father is the Father, and far more truly than those who bear that name among us, because He is Father in a proper and singular manner, and not as bodies are; and alone, for it is not by union; and of the Only one, for He is the Only-Begotten; and alone, for the Son did not exist before the Father; and whole as Father, and of a whole, for what is ours is obscure; and from the beginning, for He is not latter. Truly a Son is the Son, because He is alone, and of the Only one, and alone, and only; for He is not also the Father, and ^B whole as Son, and of a whole, and from the beginning, never having had a beginning of being Son; for the Deity is not from change of mind, nor is the deification from progress, so that it might ever be lacking, in the one, of being Father, and in the other, of being Son. Truly Holy is the Holy Spirit; for there is no other such, nor in such a way, nor does the sanctification come by addition, but is holiness itself; nor is it more or less, nor did it begin in time, nor will it cease. For it is common to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit that they are not created, and the Deity. But to the Son and the Holy Spirit [it is common] that they are from the Father. But the property of the Father is this, that He is unbegotten; of the Son, that He is begotten; of the Spirit, that He is the emission. But if you seek the manner, ^C what will you leave to those who alone know one another, and are known by one another—as the Scripture testifies—or to us who will be enlightened by them hereafter?

XVII. Become something of what has been said, or at least such, and then you will know as much as they mutually know one another. But now, teach us to know only this much: the Trinity in Unity, and the Unity in Trinity, to be worshipped, having a partition and a union that is truly admirable. Do not fear the passions, while you confess the generation. For the Divine is passionless, even if It has generated. I am your surety for this, that It has generated in a divine, and not in a human manner. For not even His being is human. ^D Do you, however, fear time and creation. For—

if He has come into being, do not advocate for God in vain, and ^A take away God, making Him a fellow-servant—He who also frees you from servitude, if you sincerely confess His dominion. Do not fear the procession; for it is not necessary for God to either not produce, or to produce in a similar manner, He who is rich in all things. But fear alienation, and the punishment that awaits those who do not confess the Holy Spirit to be God, but who insult Him.

XVIII. ^B Beware lest you wrongly honor the monarchy, by contracting or circumcising the Godhead; and let not the charge of tritheism bring you shame, so long as another is also in danger of ditheism on the same account. For either you shall dissolve the charge with him, or you shall be questioned with him; or perhaps he will suffer shipwreck regarding both his reasonings and his Deity, while for you the Deity remains safe. And if the argument has grown weak, it is better to labor in one's reasonings while following the guidance of the Spirit, than to easily commit impiety while pursuing a shallow ease. Spurn for me those objections, and counter-arguments, and this "new" piety, and this petty, meager wisdom; and spurn them more than the webs of spiders, which hold flies, but are torn by wasps—I do not say by fingers, or by any other of the heavier bodies. Teach us to fear only one thing, namely, the dissolution of the faith through sophistry. It is not terrible to be defeated in argument, for argument is not everyone's strength; but it is terrible to be deprived of the Godhead, for that is the hope of all. As to these things, I know that you yourself will philosophize ^C more readily and perfectly; your wounds guarantee this to me, and your body that has labored much for piety; and we also will philosophize with you, as far as strength allows.

XIX. But when you have departed on your excellent pilgrimage, remember for me the Trinity dwelling in tabernacles—if indeed God dwells at all in things made by hands—and this small harvest of ours, not grown from small seeds of piety, but still small and meager, and which is gathered little by little. For we have become ^D like those gathering stubble in the harvest, if I may speak the Prophet’s words at the opportune time, and like the gleanings in the vintage, when

ORATION XXVI. ON HIMSELF.

^A ... that there be no grapes. You see how great this collection is; and for this reason, strive to make the threshing floor more abundant for us, and the winepress more full. Tell also of our calling, and our incredible journey, which we undertook not to enjoy luxury and delights, but so that we might be companions in misfortune; that having shared in the hardships and the bitterness, we might also one day come to share in the glory. You have this people, favorable in their prayers, this companion of our journey; this flock, I say, narrow indeed in number, but not at all narrow in piety: whose narrowness I revere more than the amplitude and breadth of others. ^B These things says the Holy Spirit: with this you shall pass through fire, and quiet the rage of wild beasts, and render rulers mild and gentle. Thus depart, thus set out, and return to us again, extraordinarily rich, a second time crowned with laurels, and hereafter singing with us the song of victory, now and in the time to come in Christ Jesus, our Lord, to whom is the glory for ever. Amen.

ADMONITION ON ORATION XXVI.

I. The designs of Maximus, whom we saw publicly praised by Gregory in the preceding oration, did not remain hidden for long. Soon the fire erupted from the ashes, and "that Egyptian specter," as Gregory calls him, too quickly produced the venomous "offspring of an asp." For, burning with envy and ambition, he was led to such impiety and audacity that he sought to transfer to himself the dignity of the Constantinopolitan see, once the legitimate pastor had been driven from the throne. Therefore, he first chose as his partner in crime one of the clergy of Gregory, who was equally a participant in the household, table, and intimate familiarity of the Theologian. Both ungrateful and factious men summoned from Egypt—or rather, bought with money—men who were seditious and ready for any crime. By their service, and with the addition of bishops sent by Peter of Alexandria himself, who might secretly consecrate Maximus, they invaded the church by night. These horrible things, though carried out until light, were not yet finished when they came to the notice of the clergy. As soon as these matters were publicized, the whole city roared with indignation. Magistrates, citizens, foreigners, and even the heretics themselves flocked to the church. Moved by unanimous indignation, they cast out the consecrated and the consecrators with the greatest shame and dishonor; nor did they become any wiser after such disgrace. For, persisting in their most wicked purpose, they entered the house of a certain flute-player and performed their unspeakable work.

II. Meanwhile, Gregory was suffering from a disease, not in the suburbs, as Billius and Baronius supposed, but in Constantinople, as is gathered from his *Poem on His Own Life*. When he heard the series of so many and such great crimes, suddenly struck with deep mental anguish, he considered flight; and he entered the sacred temple of Anastasia, as if to bid a final farewell to the entire Christian congregation. But moved by the constant prayers and tears of the whole flock, he finally promised that he would not leave. However, to restore his weakened mental and physical strength, he withdrew for a short time to a nearby villa, from where, not long after, he returned and delivered this oration. Baronius wrongly calls this an "Invective against Maximus." The learned man also conjectures that this is the very "book of vituperations" which Jerome mentions. But both the inscription itself and the purpose of the orator argue against this opinion. For this oration cannot be that book, in which Maximus is not even mentioned. We do not deny, however, that in several places here Maximius and his followers are incidentally and covertly indicated and lashed by Gregory; but it does not follow from this that this is the *Invective against Maximus*. And certainly, if the book of which Jerome speaks differs from those things which Gregory wrote against Maximus in his *Poem on His Own Life*, it is permissible to affirm that this [book] no longer exists, since no trace of that book survives anywhere.