Oration 7

void of touch and comprehension, but according to the order which exists within itself—known only to itself, yet for us equally worthy of veneration and adoration—it is that which alone penetrates even into the Holy of Holies, while leaving all created things outside, separated and divided by a first and then a second veil: by the first, indeed, the celestial and angelic orders are set apart from the Deity; and by the second, our nature is separated from the celestial. Let us act in this way, brothers, and let us be of this mind; and those who think otherwise, as being a taint and corruption of the truth, let us, as far as it is permitted, take in and heal; but those who are suffering from an incurable disease, let us turn away from, lest we contract their sickness before we impart our own health to them. And the God of peace, that peace, I say, which surpasses all understanding, shall be with us, in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

MONITUM ON ORATION Oration VII

I. Caesarius, whose untimely death is the principal scope of this oration, was the youngest brother of Gregory the Theologian. Having set out from his father's house along with Gregory for the sake of his studies, he left his brother in the schools of Palestine and went to Alexandria (n. 6). There, in a short time, he acquired such skill in the mathematical arts and in medicine (n. 8) that the “royal city,” Constantinople, later admired it and wished to honor him with the public ornaments of dignity and the senatorial rank itself. But Caesarius, having spurned all these titles of honor, joined himself as a companion on the journey to his brother Gregory, who had departed from Athens and had come to that city, and returned to his homeland.

II. But when he had stayed there for some time, he returned again to Constantinople, where he “straightway obtained the first rank among physicians, and being held in the number of friends to the Emperor Constantius, was showered with the greatest honors (n. 10).” Nor was he held in less esteem by Julian, who, although he had ordered most of the administrators of his predecessor Constantius to be dismissed, did not in any way cast out Caesarius, who freely and publicly professed the faith of Christ in the presence of the Apostate. He became even more illustrious under the emperors Jovian and, subsequently, Valentinian and Valens. His prefecture, which he performed in Bithynia, was as it were a prelude to greater dignities, when the city of Nicaea was overturned by an earthquake. In this calamity, Caesarius himself was almost overwhelmed. But he escaped almost entirely unharmed, “protected,” I would more rightly say, by divine power from the ruin itself (n. 15).

III. Meanwhile, his parents and friends, who were saddened that he was involved in the affairs of the world, seized the occasion of this earthquake and began to urge him more vehemently to say farewell to the court and its dignities. Caesarius yielded to their wishes and signified by letter to his brother Gregory that he would abandon the court. But, alas! too swift a death encountered him from the opposite direction, and he who “had been superior to the earthquake was not so to the disease,” as Gregory writes (ibid.); from which scholars (Bar. ad an. 368; Bolland. ad diem 25 Febr.; Tillemontius) conclude that only a very brief space of time intervened between the earthquake and the death of Caesarius.

IV. These are the things by which Gregory, having amplified them oratorically, softens and relieves his own grief and that of his pious parents. Jerome counts this oration especially among the Gregorian orations (37). It is likely that it was delivered immediately after the death of Caesarius—that is, when his remains had been brought to Nazianzus and were interred in the tomb which his long-lived parents had opportunely prepared for themselves. For Caesarius did not die in his own country, as Baronius contends. Moreover, that is nowhere read. Therefore, this funeral oration seems to be placed at the end of the year 368, or rather the beginning of 369. For the earthquake, after which we said Caesarius died, is the very same one which Socrates narrates (38) occurred in Bithynia on the Ides of October, in the consulship of Valentinian and Valens; which falls in the vulgar year 368.

V. ON THE ORATION IN PRAISE OF CAESARIUS THE BROTHER

^A 196 V. There are some points in this oration related by the Theologian that cause no small trouble for the learned. For speaking of Caesarius, Gregory says: "He was living in Bithynia, administering a prefecture for the emperor that was by no means the lowest. But it consisted in collecting moneys for the emperor and managing the treasuries (ibid.)." The learned are at a loss here, and doubt what these words mean by "prefecture"; whether it is the "office of quaestor," as Billius interprets; or "comitiva of the sacred largesses," or, as Gothofredus contends (39), one of the "private affairs"; or finally, a "simple" prefecture in that province, or "count of the treasuries" who would be under the illustrious man, the count of the sacred largesses, as the Bollandists (40) and Tillemont would have it.

VI. We certainly shall not delay to refute this interpretation of Billius: "He held the office of quaestor." For, as Gothofredus observes, "in this age the Greek word *tamievs* [treasurer] is wrongly expressed by the term 'quaestor,' for the quaestor was not, as of old, the one who presided over the public treasury; but rather he whom today we almost call the chancellor, in whose power was the right of declaring laws for the prince and of writing answers to the petitions of suppliants, as is evident from Claudian and the *Notitia Imperii*." We shall also say almost nothing about the opinion of Gothofredus, the Bollandists, and Tillemont. Every man strives to confirm his own opinion with various arguments. Truly, the weight and firmness of the reasons on either side are not great. The most illustrious Tillemont himself admits that each of these dignities can be signified by Gregory's words; and he even agrees, in a marvelous manner, with Gothofredus's opinion, in that Gregory says: "The province, indeed, entrusted to Caesarius did not hold the lowest place among the dignities of the empire." However, the learned man doubts whether such a comitiva can be called a "prelude" to higher grades, or whether Caesarius ought to have remained in that dignity from the year 364 to the year 369 without being promoted to greater things in the meantime. But, with the permission of that most learned man, it may be said that no doubt can arise regarding the first point. For Gregory himself calls this prefecture a "prelude." As for the second point, granted that which Tillemont contends, "that Caesarius was never promoted to higher honors," if anything follows from this, it is certainly nothing other than that the dignity of Caesarius was not of the least, but one of the more distinguished ones, in which the emperor, who was most desirous of promoting him, permitted him to remain for several years. Nor does Gothofredus grant this, who affirms that Caesarius was later raised by Valens to the prefecture of the city of Constantinople, and that Ammianus Marcellinus makes mention of him in the deeds of the year 365, as does Zosimus in book IV, which Leuvenklaius also noted in Zosimus.

VII. In such a variety of opinions, it is not easy to discern which path should be followed. It will therefore be safer to adhere to the footsteps of Gregory; and since he himself makes no mention of any prefecture held by Caesarius higher than that which he administered in Bithynia—and was still administering when he was taken away by death—we are not permitted to assert that the prefecture of the city of Constantinople was committed to him; indeed, we can hardly allow that he was a "count of private affairs." For he lived for a long time in the province, in each of which, as Pancirolus notes, there were prefects of the treasuries. Furthermore, the *comitiva* of private affairs was one of the three primary dignities of the empire, and therefore should not—and in fact did not—serve as a grade to 197 greater things or a "prelude." For it contradicts Gregory's words that his brother Caesarius was first designated "count of private affairs and the treasuries," then "prefect," or even "quaestor." If it were so, he would truly have descended a long way from greater to lesser things, let alone having served as a prelude to greater ones. But perhaps that which led most learned men into error is that they did not pay sufficient attention to the fact that there was not only one Caesarius at that time. For there was another Caesarius, distinct from the brother of Gregory, a powerful man to whom Gregory inscribed two letters that are found among his (Gregorian) works. Perhaps he was the "count of private affairs" in the year 364, and subsequently "master of offices," "prefect of the praetorium," and even "consul," unless you prefer to divide these duties between two Caesariuses.

VIII. It is worth observing that Gregory, in this funeral oration for Caesarius, does not say a single word about the writings that are circulated under his name. This silence seems enough for us to consider the four dialogues which bear the name of Caesarius to have been falsely attributed to him. For the author of the dialogues praises Maximus, who flourished long after Caesarius, namely in the seventh century, and is therefore much more recent. Leuvenklaius, who prefers to believe that the testimonies which occur everywhere in the dialogues regarding Maximus were rashly stitched on by someone, rather than to strip the dialogues from Caesarius, is certainly more deserving of ridicule than of serious refutation.

IX. Furthermore, the dialogues bear an epigraph which itself declares that they cannot be the progeny of Caesarius; for it is of such a kind, both in the edition of Leuvenklaius and in the *Bibliotheca Patrum*, that it signifies both the questions proposed and the fact that Caesarius was "a secretis" and "for twenty whole years was staying in Constantinople teaching." These things can by no means be said of Caesarius. For he is never read to have been "teaching" or "a secretis," and much less could he have "taught for twenty whole years" in Constantinople, for he did not spend even ten or eight years in that city. And certainly the Theologian indicates clearly enough that nothing was published to the public by his brother Caesarius regarding the art of oratory, medicine, mathematics, philosophy, etc. He could certainly have discoursed on these arts with praise, but not on theology, in which, as a merely catechumen man, he had not labored in the arena. Hence, it may deservedly be doubted whether these dia-

who have read the logs, and who attribute them to Caesarius. For it is evident to any reader that the author of the dialogues was a man most deeply versed in theological matters and widely known by reputation. For those who question him declare 41 "that they have been exhausted by the waves of absurd opinions and are taking refuge with the master's kindness, as if at a certain port, so that they may be taught the truth concerning the adorable Trinity and other points of Holy Scripture"; and they call him "doctor," using the title of "father of his most devoted sons." This designation indeed signifies a priest, and one distinguished by his knowledge of theological matters. And in the very act, the doctor, breaking off the debate on the second day, says: 42 "Because the schedule of the time now compels us to perform the mysteries, with holy heaven awaiting us," etc. Whoever, therefore, wishes to attribute these dialogues to Caesarius must transform, by a new and clearly admirable metamorphosis, the same man from a physician into a theologian, and from a catechumen into a priest. ^B X. Finally, the author of the dialogues calls Origen 43 "a vain chatterer, a most impious writer," and his dogmas "venomous and pestilential, which deceive the simpler folk." Would Gregory's brother, I ask, have spoken like this of Origen, much less Gregory himself, who a long time afterwards was sending excerpts of Origen, "as a monument to Basil and himself," to Theodore 44? By this, the silly opinion of a certain writer 45 is completely overturned, who wished to maintain that the dialogues were forged by the Theologian himself for Caesarius; and he attempts to construct this from a confused and darkened text of Photius 46, who did not even dream of such a thing. One thing alone is gathered from the words of Photius: that the author of the dialogues, whom he mentions, is more ancient than Photius, who lived in the ninth century.

ORATION VII

I. Do you perhaps think, O friends, and brothers, and fathers—a name and a thing truly sweet—that I have come forward eagerly to speak, in order to pursue him who has departed with tears and lamentations, or to deliver a long and elegant oration, of the kind in which most people delight? And you, indeed, have gathered as if to be partners in my sorrow and mourning, so that you might deplore your own misfortunes in mine, if anything of this sort has happened to any of you, and learn to grieve at the calamities of friends; ^B while others have come as if to feast their ears and delight their minds. For it was thought that I must make a display, and that this calamity was such as my state used to be, when we were still sufficiently extravagant in other matters and in the realm of material things, and ambitious in our speeches; before I had lifted my eyes to the true and supreme Word, and, having given all things to God—from whom all things come—had received God in exchange for all things. Do not, I beg you, think this of us, if you wish to think anything right. For we shall neither mourn the departed more than is fitting, since we are not accustomed to approve of such things in others, ^C nor shall we exceed measure and decorum in praising him, although a speech is a dear and most fitting gift, if anything else is so to an eloquent man, and praise is a gift to one who has loved my speeches exceptionally; and it is not only a gift, but also a duty, the most just of all debts. But I shall do only as much as is needed to fulfill the law regarding these matters and [to maintain] the...

mean between apathy and excess (for such is not outside our philosophy: "The memory of the just is with praises," and "For the dead," he says, "let fall tears, and begin to lament, as if you had suffered something terrible"—rightly severing us from both apathy and excess). After this, I shall point out the weakness of human nature, remind you of the dignity of the soul, add the consolation due to those who suffer, and transfer our grief from the flesh and transitory things to spiritual and eternal ones.

^B II. As for Cæsarius—to begin from where it is most fitting for me—he had parents whom you all know, and whose virtue you, by seeing and hearing them, emulate, admire, and recount to those who are unaware of it (if indeed any such people exist), each of you taking a different part. For it is impossible for one man to recount everything, nor is this a task for a single tongue, however much anyone might excel in labor and diligence, or apply the highest zeal and effort. And though many and great are the arguments for their praise (unless perhaps I seem to some to be doing something foolish in praising my own kin), one thing especially ennobles them and renders them distinguished, namely piety. I speak of these grave and hoary ones, venerable no less for their virtue than for their old age; whose bodies have been worn down by time, but whose souls flourish and bloom toward God.

^C III. The father, well grafted from the wild olive into the fruitful olive tree, and become so much a partaker of its fatness that he was entrusted with the care of grafting others as well, and commissioned with the culture of souls, presiding in high manner over this high people—a second Aaron, or Moses, deemed worthy to approach God and to supply the divine voice to others standing far off—was gentle, free from anger, serene in appearance, fervent in spirit, rich in the things that are seen, but richer in those that are hidden. Yet why should I paint for you one who is known? For even if we should prolong our discourse, we could not say as much as is worthy, and as much as each of you understands and demands of the speech; and it is better to leave it to your own surmises than to truncate in my words a large part of the miracle.

^D IV. The mother, however, [was] of old and from [her] ancestors...

conducting piety like a certain necessary inheritance, not to herself alone, but passing it on also to her children, was truly a holy lump from holy first-fruits. And she so increased and amplified this [piety] that, even as to the perfection of her husband (for I will speak, even if this statement be not free from boldness), some believe and declare it must be ascribed to no other person than to her; and—O miracle!—that she received as a reward for her piety a greater and more perfect piety. Both were lovers of their children and lovers of Christ, and—what is most worthy of wonder—Lovers of Christ even more than lovers of their children; inasmuch as they took this one fruit from their children, to be recognized and named by Christ, ^B and to possess virtue as the limit of good breeding, and a drawing near to the Better [God]. They were compassionate, sympathetic, rescuing many things from moths and robbers and the prince of this world, transferring them from their sojourn [on earth] to their true habitation, and heaping up for their children a most great inheritance, namely, the splendor of the life to come. Thus they arrived at a ripe old age, equal to one another in both virtue and years, and full of days, as well those that remain as those that pass away and flow by: each would have held the first place among mortals, had they not hindered one another from this preeminence by their mutual affection. Finally, they fulfilled every measure of happiness, except for this last one, as anyone might judge—whether it be by way of trial or by dispensation: this is, in my own judgment, that by sending ahead that son for whom, on account of the instability of his age, there was more to be feared, they themselves, already ending their life in security, might be transferred, with their whole household, to the things above.

V. ^C And these things I have recounted, not wishing to praise them, nor unaware that one could scarcely attain the dignity of the subject in an entire discourse dedicated to their praises, but in order to show that the virtue of Caesarius was owed to his parents, and that it should not seem wonderful or incredible to you if, having obtained such parents, he proved himself worthy of such praises; but rather the contrary, had he overlooked the examples of his own household and kin and set others before himself to emulate. Such, indeed, were his beginnings, such as became those who are truly well-born and destined to live rightly and honorably. But to come to the middle, that is to say, his beauty, his stature, and the grace attendant upon all the man's actions, and, as it were, the harmony in his notes (for although it is not our custom to marvel at such things, even if to others they do not seem small), I shall proceed to what follows in my account, and to things which are not easy to pass over even if I should desire to do so.

^A VI. We, therefore, having been educated and instituted in such manners, and sufficiently exercised and cultivated in the disciplines of this place—in which he, by the speed and greatness of his nature, left most others behind him by an interval that cannot be expressed—how shall I pass over the memory of these things without tears, and how shall my grief not show me to be of a faint heart, contrary to what I promised! For when the time of our departure seemed to have arrived, and we were then first separated from one another—I, indeed, remaining in the schools of Palestine for the love of the orator’s art, which were then flourishing; but he, having gone to the city of Alexander, which both then and now was and is considered the workshop of all learning. ^B What shall I tell of first, or what shall I say is the greatest of his virtues? Or what shall I pass over, so as not to injure my discourse by the omission of the greatest things? Who was more faithful to his teachers than he? Who was more agreeable to his equals? Who more avoided the society and company of the wicked? Who attached himself more to the best of men, both to those from his own country who were the most reputable and well-known, and to others as well, knowing that social intercourse contributes no small amount either to virtue or to vice? From which, who was more honored by the governors than he? Or who was more widely known to the whole city, either for self-control, or—though his own learning was altogether more sublime and abstruse—more illustrious for the sagacity of his mind?

VII. On the industry and achievements of Caesarius in his studies.

^C VII. What kind of learning did he not traverse? Or rather, what is there that he did not master, so that not even one other could compare? To whom, moreover, did he yield, so that anyone could approach him even in the slightest degree, not only of his fellows and peers, but even of those older and more ancient in their studies? For he cultivated all things as one, and each one again as all. And just as he surpassed those endowed with winged intellects by his study and diligence, so he surpassed the studious and industrious by the speed of his intellect; or, to speak more correctly, he surpassed the naturally gifted in intellect, the industrious in study, and those who excelled in both in both respects. And from geometry, indeed, and astronomy, and from learning that is for others dangerous, having selected whatever was useful—that is, so as to admire the Creator from the ^D harmony and order of the heavenly bodies—he escaped whatever was harmful and ruinous; for he did not refer the things that exist and come to pass to the motion of the stars, as those who set up the creature to contend against the Creator, and—as is natural—attribute all other things and their motion to them; but, as with all other things, so he attributed their motion, as is right, to divine providence. And in numbers and calculations, and in that excellent part of the medical art which philosophizes on natures and temperaments and the sources of diseases, such that by removing the roots one also cuts away the shoots, who is so ignorant or contentious as to assign him second place, and not to rejoice if, next to him, he should immediately be ranked?

Nor is this mere talk, ^A unsupported by testimony; rather, the eastern and western regions, and indeed all those territories which he subsequently traversed, are the renowned pillars of his learning.

VIII. But since, like a great cargo ship laden with every kind of merchandise, he was sailing back to his own city, having collected within his soul every manner of virtue and discipline, so that he might share the fair wares of his learning with others, here too a certain admirable thing occurred. Because the memory of it delights me above all else, and might also afford you pleasure, it will not be out of place to set it forth in few words. Our mother, with a certain maternal yearning and a heart full of love for her children, had one desire: just as she had sent us both forth at the same time, she wished also to see us returning together. For we were, if not to others, then certainly to our mother, when we were seen together, a pair ^B to be desired, and a sight to be wished for—though now, alas, unhappily undone by envy. And behold, by the impulse of God—who hearkens to just prayers and values the love of parents toward virtuous sons—neither by any plan nor by any compact, he from Alexandria, I from Greece, the one by land, the other by sea, arrived at the same city at the same time. This city was Byzantium, which now holds the primacy of all Europe; in it, after no long time had passed, Caesarius attained such glory that public honors, a marriage among the most celebrated, and participation in the senatorial ^C order were offered to him. And by common decree it was sought from the great emperor through envoys that he should be willing to have the first city adorned and honored by the prince of learned men (if indeed he had a care that it should be truly primary, and worthy of its name), and that this should be added to its other praises: that it should be adorned by Caesarius, both as physician and as citizen; although, apart from its other splendor, it abounds in men distinguished in philosophy and in other branches of the arts. But enough of this. As for that which happened at that time, though to others it might appear to have occurred randomly and by chance—as a matter ^D of which human affairs bring forth many—to the pious, however, it was abundantly manifest that the event had come to pass for no other reason than the work of pious parents, bringing their children together, both by land and by sea, for the fulfillment of a single wish.

^C IX. Come, let us not pass over even this praise of Caesarius, which, though it may seem small to the judgment of others and perhaps not even worthy of mention, yet to me, both then and now, appeared most great—if, indeed, fraternal love deserves praise—and I shall never cease to place it among the first [points], as often as my narrative is set to speak of his affairs. For when the city was restraining him with the honors we have mentioned, and saying that it would not by any means allow him the power to depart, I, nevertheless—whose authority Caesarius valued most highly in all matters—striving in the opposite direction, succeeded in this: that neither were our parents frustrated in their wish, nor our homeland in its due obligation, nor indeed was I in my own longing. For he joined himself to me as a companion and fellow-traveler of my journey; and he placed me before not only cities and peoples, not only the honors and revenues that were streaming to him from everywhere in abundance, or were held in hope and expectation, but he even preferred me to the emperor himself and to the commands from that quarter.

From there, I resolved to philosophize and to be transformed toward the life above, shaking off all political ambition as if it were a harsh master or a painful disease; or rather, the desire was indeed older, but the life was subsequent. But Caesarius, when he had dedicated the first fruits of his learning to his homeland and had stirred up for himself an admiration worthy of his labors, later, led by a desire for glory—or, at least, as he gave me to believe, in order to be a protection to the city—betook himself to the court. He did not, indeed, in my own judgment, do a thing very pleasing to us (for I will not deny before you that it is better and more sublime to be ranked among the lowest before God than to hold the first place before an earthly emperor), yet he did not do anything worthy of blame. For to philosophize is as difficult as it is great, and the undertaking is not for many, nor for any others than those whom the magnificence of the divine mind, which is accustomed to reach out a hand to the good will of men, has called; or to those who have ^D chosen well, it grants its hand. It is no small thing if someone, having embraced a second way of life, should pursue probity and have more regard for God and his own salvation than for earthly splendor; and should cast aside the latter as a stage or a mask among those many and fleeting things, playing the drama of this world, while he himself lives for God together with the image which he knows he has received from Him and owes to the giver; which, indeed, we know to have been the mind of Caesarius.

X. For when he had no need of great effort or labor, but had shown merely his learning, or rather, had merely displayed a short specimen of his education, he was immediately granted ^D the first rank among physicians,

^A and reaped the greatest honors. He offered the humanity of his art free of charge to those in authority, knowing that nothing so advances a man to higher things as virtue and being known for the best of deeds. Though he was second in rank to some, he surpassed them by far in glory. Being beloved by all because of his temperance and moderation, and on that account entrusted with precious things, nor having any need at all of Hippocrates to adjure him—so that the simplicity of Crates was as nothing when compared with the sincerity seen in him—he was esteemed by all even more than his rank warranted. He was always deemed worthy of great things, and judged by the emperors themselves and those who held the first positions after them to be worthy of greater things than those he hoped for. But the greatest thing of all is that neither by glory nor by the luxury that surrounded him was the nobility of his soul corrupted. ^B Rather, though he possessed many and great advantages, his primary aim was to be and to be called a Christian; and all other things he considered as child’s play and trifles when weighed against this single goal. For other things are like a stage performance, played by others, quickly erected and as quickly dismantled—perhaps even more easily destroyed than constructed, as one can see from the many changes of this life and the prosperity that shifts up and down—whereas piety is the only truly individual good, and one that remains secure.

XI. This was the philosophy of Caesarius even while wearing the official cloak;

^A And his first artifice and sophistry was this: that we might not even obtain the honor bestowed upon the contests—for that noble gentleman envied Christians even this—he ordered that those suffering as Christians should be punished as criminals. His second was to give the name of persuasion to what was being done, rather than tyranny, so that the shame of those who willingly proceeded toward impiety might appear greater than the danger. And some with money, others with dignities, others with promises, and others with various sorts of honors—which he offered not in a royal manner, but most servilely in the sight of all—and all of them by the sorcery of his words 21 and by his own example, he tried on many occasions, and Caesarius as well. Alas for such madness and folly, if he hoped that he would plunder both Caesarius, and my brother, and one born of such parents!

^B XII. But, that I may linger a little while in this discourse and take pleasure in the narrative, just as those who were present at the miracle 22 did: that brave man entered, fortified by the sign of Christ and holding forth the great Word as a shield, against one who was great in arms and great in the skill of rhetoric. He was not at all struck with fear by the sight, nor did he cast down anything of his spirit through flattery, but was an athlete ready to contend, both in word and deed, against him who was powerful in both respects. Such, then, was the stadium, and such the champion of piety. And the president 23 of the contest: on one side, Christ, arming the athlete through his own sufferings; on the other, the formidable tyrant, coaxing the athlete with the allurements of words, and terrifying him with the weight of his power. And there was a theater on both sides—both of those who had remained in the piety of the faith and of those who had been snatched away by him—all looking to see which way their contest would incline, and suffering more for who would win than those very people who were being watched.

^C XIII. But did you not fear that something unworthy of Caesarius's zeal might happen? But be of good courage, for victory is with Christ, who has overcome the world 14. Now, I would have valued explaining each of the things then spoken or proposed more than anything; for that debate contains certain logical subtleties and charms, which, in my own judgment, are not unpleasant to remember. But it is entirely untimely ^D

^A and alien to the purpose of this oration. But when Cæsarius, having dissolved all his [the opponent’s] verbal meshes and thrust aside all his efforts, whether open or obscure, as if they were mere child’s play, declared with a great and clear voice that he was and always would be a Christian, he was not even then entirely cast out; for the emperor had a terrible longing to enjoy the learning and adornment of Cæsarius. It was at this time that he uttered that celebrated saying to all who were listening: "O happy father, O unhappy children!" For he thought fit to decorate us too with a share of the shame—us whose learning and piety he had known at Athens—but Cæsarius was reserved for the second coming (for the God who presides over justice was conveniently arming him against the Persians). He returned to us a blessed exile and bloodless victor, and more illustrious for his disgrace than for splendor and glory.

^B XIV. This victory of his I judge to be far more sublime and precious than all that great hand of his, and the towering purple, and the diadem of immense price. I am more elated by this account than if he had shared the whole empire with him. To evil times, therefore, he yields, and in doing so obeys our law, which ordains that when the time is urgent we should risk danger for the sake of the truth, and not betray piety through cowardice; but as long as it is permitted, we should not provoke dangers ourselves—either out of fear for our own souls, or out of concern for those who bring the danger upon us. But after this darkness was dispelled, and the foreign land had judged the cause rightly, and the unsheathed sword had laid the impious one low, and affairs had returned to the Christians, what need is there to say with what honor and glory, or with how many and what great testimonies—and as if he were bestowing a benefit rather than receiving one—he was received back into the palace, and received the second honor in place of the first? And while time has changed the emperors, for Cæsarius his glory and the primacy of authority among them remained not at all shaken or dissolved; nay, rather, there was a struggle among the emperors as to who would more attach Cæsarius to himself, and of whom he would be called more the friend and intimate. Such was the piety of Cæsarius, such the rewards of his piety. Let the young listen, let the men listen, and let them hasten through the same virtue to the same splendor (for "the fruit of good labors is glorious" ^C), whoever also seeks this out, and counts it a part of happiness.

XV. Now, moreover, what sort of miracle was this of his ^D

^A and what great evidence does he provide, both of his parents' piety and of his own? He was living in Bithynia, administering a position of no small authority under the emperor—it was his duty to collect the imperial revenues and to have the care of the treasuries. The emperor had intended this to be, as it were, a prelude to greater commands for him.

When the earthquake occurred previously at Nicaea—said to be the most severe of any ever recorded in human memory—which nearly engulfed everyone and vanished together with the beauty of the city, he alone among the prominent men, or at most with very few, escaped from the danger safe and sound. And he did this in an incredible way, being protected by the very ruin itself, and bearing only minor marks of the danger—only enough to let fear serve as an instructor for a greater salvation, and to join himself entirely to the side above, having transferred his service from things subject to turmoil, and having exchanged the court for himself. This he reflected upon, and prayed for with zeal, as he persuaded me by writing to me, when I had seized the occasion to admonish him—which I never ceased doing, taking it amiss that the greatness of his nature should be occupied in inferior matters, and that a soul so philosophical should wallow in public affairs, and be covered as if by a cloud over the sun.

But while he proved superior to the earthquake, he was no longer so ^B to the disease; for he was a man. And the former was his own, the latter common to others; one belonged to piety, the other to nature. Yet consolation forestalled the suffering, so that, shaken by his death, we might boast of the extraordinary nature of his salvation at that time. And now our great Caesarius has been preserved for us—precious ash, a dead man praised, escorted by hymns succeeding hymns, led in procession to the shrines of the martyrs, honored by the holy hands of his parents, his mother clothing herself in white, substituting piety for mourning, philosophy overcoming tears, psalms lulling grief to sleep, ^C and finally receiving honors worthy of a soul newly created, which the Spirit had reformed through water.

XVI. This, Caesarius, is the funeral gift from me: these are the first fruits of my discourses, which you often complained were hidden, and which you were to have unveiled in yourself. This ornament from me; yet to you, I know well, it is dearer than any ornament—not silk and soft, flowing garments, in which you did not even delight when you were still alive, as many do, inasmuch as you were adorned by virtue alone; nor the textures of transparent linen, nor costly D

infusions of ointments, which you formerly sent into the women's quarters, and whose fragrance a single day dissolves; nor anything else of such trifles, which are precious to those of small mind, all of which this bitter stone would conceal today, keeping them hidden along with the beautiful body. Away with the contests and myths of the Gentiles, by which wretched youths have been honored, setting forth small prizes for small contests; and all those things by which, through libations and first-fruits, or crowns and freshly plucked flowers, they perform funeral rites for departed men, serving ancestral law and dull sorrow rather than reason. My gift is speech, which perhaps the future time will also receive; it is possessed of perpetual motion, and it does not allow the one who has departed from here to slip away into oblivion, but always guards the one being honored for the ears and souls of men, and sets forth the image of the desired one more vividly than a painting.

^A XVII. Such, then, are the offerings from us. But if they are small and inferior to your merits, yet it is pleasing to God that it is done according to our strength. We have paid some of these duties, and others we will pay, offering annual honors and commemorations, at least those of us who shall survive. But may you, O divine and sacred head, pierce the heavens, and may you find rest in the bosom of Abraham—whoever indeed that may be—and may you behold the choir of angels and the glory and splendor of blessed men; or rather, may you dance with them and rejoice with them, laughing from on high at all the things that are here: both at the so-called riches, and at the cast-off dignities, and the false honors, and the imposture that the senses create, and the vain glory of this life, and the confusion and ignorance that is like a battle in the night. Standing by that great King, and being filled with the light shining from thence—a small rill of which we have received here, as much as we are able to sketch out and discern in mirrors and in riddles—may we hereafter come to the very fountain itself, beholding pure truth with a pure mind, and finding this as the reward of the labor spent in the pursuit of virtue here, that we may more perfectly enjoy the company and contemplation of the supreme good there; the end of our sacred discipline, which both books and souls flourishing in the praise of theology profess.

XVIII. What remains yet? Nothing else, surely, than to offer the remedy of speech to those who are in sorrow. For it is a great [consolation] to those who mourn

when it is provided by those who suffer the same pain, and those who are pressed by a like calamity have greater authority to console the tormented. It is to them, therefore, that my speech was primarily directed—for whose sake I would surely be overcome with shame if they did not carry the first fruits of patience, just as they do of all other virtues. For even if they excel all others in their love for their children, they also surpass all others in philosophy and in the love of Christ, and they themselves have long meditated on the transition from this life, and have taught their children so, or, to speak more correctly, they have so ordered their whole life that it is nothing but a meditation on death.

But if sorrow still darkens the reason and, like some rheum descending over the eye, prevents one from clearly seeing what is required, then come, accept an exhortation—you elders from the young, you parents from the child—you who are worthy to be admonished by those who [ordinarily] ought to be [under your] instruction, [and yet] who have admonished many and collected experience over a long time. ^B And do not be surprised that a young man admonishes elders; this, too, is yours, if I happen to see anything more clearly than the hoary-headed. How much longer shall we live, O venerable grey hairs now drawing near to God? How much longer shall we suffer affliction here? Not even the whole of human life is long when compared to the divine and eternal nature, much less these remnants of life, and this release—if we may call it so—of the human breath, and the final moments of this fleeting and transitory life. By how much did Caesarius outrun us? How much longer shall we grieve over the departed? Do we not hasten toward the same dwelling? Shall we not presently go under the same stone? ^C Shall we not in a little while be the same dust? Shall we not make this profit from these few days that remain: to see more evils, and in part to suffer them, and in part perhaps to commit them, and so at last ourselves also to pay the common, firm, and stable tribute to the law of nature, and for some to follow, and others to precede, and some to mourn, and by others to be mourned, receiving back the contribution of tears that we have offered to others?

XIX. Such is the life of us, brothers, who live a fleeting life: such is the play upon the earth—to be born when we were not, and having been born, to be dissolved again. We are a dream that does not endure, a phantom that cannot be grasped, the flight of a passing bird, a ship on the sea leaving no path, dust, vapor, morning dew, a flower blossoming in season ^D and wilting in season. "Man, his days are as grass, as the flower of the field, so shall he flourish." Well did the divine David philosophize about our frailty, and likewise in those other words: "Make me to know the fewness of my days," and he defines human days as a measurement of wrestlers. What could you say to...

Jeremiah, who even complains against his mother for his birth ^A and that, as he laments, he was brought into the light because of the sins of others? "I saw all things," says Ecclesiastes, "I scrutinized all human things by reason: wealth, luxury, power, fickle glory, wisdom which flees more than it is grasped; luxury again, wisdom again, revolving the same things often, the pleasures of the belly, gardens, multitudes of slaves, abundance of possessions, male and female cupbearers, singing men and singing women, arms, bodyguards, nations falling at one's knees, collected tributes, the pride of kings, everything required for life, everything superfluous," in which I surpassed all the kings who were before me. And what is the result of all these things? "All is vanity of vanities, all is vanity," and "presumption of spirit," that is, a certain thoughtless impulse ^B of the soul, and the distraction of a man who has been condemned to this, perhaps on account of the ancient fall. "But the end of the discourse," he says, "hear the whole: Fear God." Here the perplexity ceases; and this is the only gain for you from the life here: to be led through the turmoil of things seen and shifting, to things fixed and immovable.

XX. Let us not, therefore, mourn Caesarius, knowing from what evils he has been snatched, but rather ourselves, knowing what evils we have been left in, and what evils we store up for ourselves, if we do not sincerely surrender ourselves to God and, having run past things that pass us by, hasten towards the life above, and, while still dwelling on earth, abandon the earth, and ^C truly follow the Spirit carrying us to the things above. These things are heavy to the faint-hearted, but light to those of stout mind. Let us consider it in this way: Will Caesarius not rule? But neither will he be ruled by others. Will he not strike terror into some? But neither will he fear a cruel master, often not even one worthy to be ruled. Will he not amass wealth? But neither will he fear envy, or have his soul suffer loss by gathering badly, ever seeking to acquire as much as he has already found. For such is the disease of wealth, having no limit to the need for more, but considering the medicine for thirst to lie in constant drinking. Will he not show off his speeches? But he will indeed be admired for his speeches. Will he not discuss the dogmas ^D of Hippocrates, and Galen, and those who oppose them? But neither will he suffer, stricken by diseases, or reap grief from the misfortunes of others. Will he not demonstrate the theorems of Euclid, and Ptolemy, and Heron? But...

neither, bearing a soul more puffed up than the ignorant, will he conceive pain. Will he not occupy himself with the dogmas of Plato, and Aristotle, and Pyrrho, and some certain Democritus, and Heraclitus, and Anaxagoras, and Cleanthes too, and Epicurus, and I know not whom of the Stoics and the Academy? But neither will he labor at how he might dissolve their probabilities. Why must I mention the others? But these things are indeed precious to all and eagerly pursued: will he not have a wife? Will he not have children? But neither will he mourn them, nor be mourned by them, nor, having left them to others, or having been left himself, be a memorial of misfortune. Will he not inherit wealth? But he shall be inherited by those whom he most desired, and by whom he himself wished to be, so that he might depart hence rich, carrying everything with him. O the pride! O the new consolation! ^B O the magnanimity of those who were set upon this! A proclamation was heard, worthy of every hearing, and the sorrow of the mother is stirred by a beautiful and holy promise, to give all that wealth to the child, as a funeral gift for his sake, and that nothing be left for those who were expecting it.

XXI. Are these not yet sufficient for consolation? I will bring a greater medicine. I am persuaded by the discourses of the wise that every soul beautiful and dear to God, when it is loosed from the body to which it was bound and departs from here, ^C immediately, having become in consciousness and contemplation of the good that awaits it, (inasmuch as that which cast a shadow has been purified, or laid aside, or I know not what word one ought to use) experiences a certain marvelous pleasure, and exults, and gladly journeys toward its own Master, having escaped the life here as if it were some burdensome prison, and having cast off the surrounding shackles by which the wing of the mind was pulled down, and as if already by anticipation it harvests the beatitude stored up; and a little later, having also received back the kindred flesh, with which it pursued wisdom ^D thenceforth, at the hand of Him who both gave it and entrusted it—

^A how this shall be, God knows, who both joined these together and dissolved them—then at last it too shall be admitted with it to the inheritance of heavenly glory; and just as through the conjunction of nature it partook of its sorrows, so too it will share in its own joys, having consumed the whole body into itself, and having become one with it—both spirit, and mind, and god—with that which was mortal and perishing having surely been swallowed up by life. Hear, then, what is philosophized about the compacting of bones and sinews by the divine Ezekiel; ^B and what after him the divine Paul said concerning the earthly tabernacle and the house not made with hands, the one, I say, being subject to dissolution, while the other is stored up in the heavens; and how he affirms that departure from the body is presence with the Lord, while he deplores the life in the body as a pilgrimage, and for this reason longs for and hastens toward the dissolution. Why do I grow faint regarding the things hoped for? Why do I become temporal? I shall await the voice of the archangel, the final trumpet, the transformation of the heaven, the change of the earth, the freedom of the elements, the renovation of the whole world. Then I shall see Caesarius, no longer a traveler, nor one now carried by others, nor lamented and an object of pity, but bright, glorious, exalted; such as you have often appeared to me in dreams, O dearest of brothers and most loving of brothers, whether my own will fashions this, or the truth itself informs it.

^C XXII. But now, having dismissed my laments, let me look into myself, lest I should be found to be carrying something worthy of lamentation, and let me examine my own affairs. *Sons of men*, for the discourse turns to you, *how long will you be heavy-hearted and dull of understanding? Why do you love vanity and seek after lies*? Judging this life to be something great, and these few days to be many, and turning away from this departure, which is welcome and sweet, as if it were something heavy and dreadful? Shall we not know ourselves? Shall we not cast away those things which are seen with the eyes? Shall we not turn our eyes to the things which are perceived by mind and intelligence? Nay, if there is indeed any cause for sorrow, shall we not rather sorrow that our sojourning is prolonged, ^D (following that David, who calls the things of this life *tabernacles of darkness, and a place of affliction, and a pit of mire, and the shadow of death*), because we linger too long in these sepulchres which we carry about us, because, being men, we die the death of sin, having become gods? This is the fear I dread, and with this I consort night and day.

^A And neither do they allow me to draw free breath, this future glory from one side, and this coming tribunal from the other; of which the former I desire so much that I can say: *My soul faints for thy salvation* (Ps. cxviii, 81), but the latter I dread and turn away from. Nor, indeed, do I fear this, that this body of mine, once having dissolved and become corrupt, should be altogether extinguished; but I fear lest that noble figment of God (noble it is, when it duly fulfills the numbers of its duty, just as it is infamous when it sins), in which there is reason, law, and hope, should be condemned to the same ignominy as those irrational creatures, ^B and possess no better condition after death—which would be a thing to be wished for by wicked men, who are worthy of that fire.

XXIII.

XXIV.

bearing, enduring all things ^A out of love and hope for Him; giving thanks for all things, for things on the right as well as the left, I say, for pleasant things and for painful, since the Word knows that these too are very often weapons of salvation, and committing our own souls to Him, as well as the souls of those who, as if on a common journey, have arrived earlier at the inn.

Having performed this duty, we shall put an end to our speech, and you to your tears—you who are already hastening to the tomb, that mournful and lasting gift which Caesarius has from you, prepared indeed for parents and old age in due season, but bestowed upon a son and youth contrary to expectation; yet it is not unreasonable in the sight of Him who directs our affairs. O Lord and Maker of all, and especially of this creature of Thine! O God of Thy men, and Father and Governor! O Arbiter of life and death! O Guardian ^B and Benefactor of our souls! Thou who makest all things, and transformest them in due [season] by the Artificer Word, and as Thou Thyself knowest by the depth of Thy wisdom and governance: now, receive Caesarius, the first-fruits of our departure; and if the last born is first, we yield to Thy reasons by which all things are governed; yet receive us too later in a convenient time, having moderated our life in the flesh for as long as it is profitable; and receive us prepared by the fear of Thee, and not troubled, nor turning our backs in the final day, and being dragged away from here by force—which is the affliction of souls that are lovers of the world and lovers of the flesh—but [receiving us] eagerly departing for that life ^C which is from above, long-enduring and blessed, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory to the ages of ages. Amen.

NOTICE REGARDING ORATION VIII

I. Just as he paid the funeral tribute to his brother Caesarius, so too did Gregory pay it to his sister Gorgonia. However, we cannot define with certainty in what year Gorgonia exchanged this earthly life for the eternal one. It is certain, however, from the words of the Theologian himself, that she survived Caesarius. For thus he speaks (n. 23): "I would also have you accept our oration to compensate for the many and exceeding many funeral gifts which we paid to Caesarius before you, and to you after him." Moreover, how long Gorgonia survived is also uncertain. One thing may be affirmed: that she preceded both parents, who departed from the living in the year [of our Lord] or in the year just elapsed. Certainly Gregory, "in his first poem" (v. 108 et seq.), mourns that both his siblings were taken away by death, and testifies that he was left "alone of the children" to his parents. From the same Gregory it is clear (22), that Caesarius and