A ... mitigate. Is the judge urgent? Do you flee to God. Is a prince present? Do you call upon the Lord. Is he a human being, that you should go to some place? God is always near. If you wish to ask a human being, you inquire what he is doing, whether he is sleeping or free from business; and the minister does not answer you. To pray to God, you have no need of any of these things: wherever you have gone and called upon Him, He hears: no occupation, no intermediary, no minister blocks the hearing. Say, "Have mercy on me," and God is immediately present: "While you are yet speaking," He says, "I will say, Behold, I am here" (Isai. 58. 9). O words full of kindness! He does not wait for the end of the prayer; not yet is the prayer finished, and you receive the gift. "Have mercy on me." Let us imitate this Canaanite woman, I beg you: "Have mercy on me: my daughter is badly vexed by a demon." But the Lord says to her: "O woman, great is your faith: let it be done to you as you wish" (Matt. 15. 28). Where are the heretics? Did He say, "I will entreat my Father"? Did He say, "I will pray to my Progenitor"? Did He have need of prayer here? Not at all. Why? Because the faith was great, the vessel was great, the grace was poured out abundantly. Where prayer is necessary, there the vessel is infirm. "O woman, great is your faith." You did not see the dead raised, you did not see the leper cleansed, you did not hear prophets, you did not meditate upon the law, you did not see the sea divided, you did not see another sign performed by me; rather, you were despised and troubled by me; I drove you away as a wretch, and you did not withdraw, but persisted: finally receive from me praise that is worthy and fitting: "O woman, great is your faith." The woman is dead, and the eulogy of her remains, more splendid than a diadem. Wherever you go, you hear Christ saying, "O woman, great is your faith." Enter into the church of the Persians, and you will hear Christ saying, "O woman, great is your faith"; likewise among the Goths, among the barbarians, among the Indians, among the Moors, and in as much land as the sun surveys: Christ uttered one word, and that word does not cease to be brought forth, but with a loud voice proclaims her faith: "O woman, great is your faith: let it be done to you as you wish." He did not say: "Let your daughter be healed"; but, "As you wish." You heal her yourself, you be the doctor, I hand the medicine to you, go, apply it, "Let it be done to you as you wish." Let your will heal her. The Canaanite healed her by her will, and shall not the Son of God heal by Himself? "Let it be done to you as you wish." He did not command the woman, nor did He order the devil; but she only willed it, and the will of the woman healed her and cast out the demons. Where are those who dare to say the Son worked through prayer? "Let it be done to you as you wish." See the affinity of the wording: He imitates His Father. For when God was creating heaven, He said, "Let there be heaven, and heaven was made"; "Let there be sun, and the sun was made"; "Let there be earth, and the earth was made." By His command He produced the substance. So also He, "Let it be done to you as you wish": the affinity of the speech shows the communion of nature. And her daughter was healed. When? In that hour (Matt. 15. 28). She came, not fearing that He would come. She arrived to find the demon-possessed girl, and found her healthy, restored to health by her will. For all these things let us give thanks to God, for to Him belongs glory forever and ever. Amen.
ADMONITION
[regarding the volume:] ... to induce the spirit: we too will not easily gratify you, or be persuaded to send long and difficult letters, if no fruit and utility for the freshness of the spirit is perceived therefrom. It is reported that the book was written in Cucusus according to certain manuscripts: but that matter is treated in the Life of Chrysostom. It is thought that Chrysostom wrote these things in the year 406. The Latin translation is by a certain learned man from the Society of Jesus, who did not state his name.[444] A DISCOURSE
That no one is harmed except by himself.
1. I know that, to those who are coarser, and who are intent upon present things, and who are fixed to the earth, and who are slaves to the pleasures of the senses, and not very dedicated to spiritual things, this discourse will appear new and strange; and they will laugh at us abundantly, and they will condemn us, as saying things that are unbelievable, [etc.]not turn away from the promise, but for this very reason we shall proceed to the proofs that we have promised with great eagerness. For if those who are so disposed are willing not to riot, nor to disturb, but to await the end of the discourse, I know well that they will stand with us, and will condemn themselves—as having been deceived in the time before—and will sing a palinode, and will apologize, and will ask for pardon for having held an incorrect judgment about these matters. They will be very grateful to us, just as the sick are to physicians when they are delivered from the diseases that besiege their bodies. Do not, I pray, bring up the judgment that presently holds sway in you, but await the contests of our arguments, and then you will be able to bring an uncorrupted vote, not being hindered by ignorance from judging the truth. For even judges who sit over these worldly matters do not allow themselves, even if they see the previous orator flowing vehemently and flooding everything with his tongue, to render a vote without having heard with patience the one who stands against him on the other side. But even if the first seems ten thousand times to be speaking justly, they keep an untouched ear for the second. For this too is a virtue of judges: to have learned from both sides with all accuracy, and only then to bring forward their own. Since, then, even now, the common prejudice of the many—long rooted in the minds of the many—has taken the place of an orator, and declaims throughout the whole world, saying: "Everything," he says, "is turned upside down; the human race is filled with great confusion; and there are many every day who are wronged, who are abused, who are forced, who are harmed, the weak by the stronger, the poor by the wealthy. And just as the waves of the sea cannot be numbered, so too the multitude of those who are plotted against, those who are abused, those who are suffering evil is beyond numbering; and neither the correction of laws, nor the fear of courts, nor anything else has checked this plague and disease, but the evil increases every day; and there are groans everywhere, and lamentations, and tears of those who are wronged; and the judges tasked to correct such things themselves intensify the storm and aggravate the disease." And many of the more foolish and miserable, seized by a new madness, accuse the providence of God, seeing the moderate man often dragged, torn, and ruled, while the bold, the impudent, the infamous, and those born of the infamous, are wealthy, surrounded by power, becoming formidable to many, and inflicting ten thousand terrible things upon the more moderate—and these things are dared in cities and in fields, and in deserts, and on land and on sea. It is necessary for this discourse to enter, standing in opposition to the things mentioned, and contending a contest—new indeed, as I said at the beginning, and paradoxical, but useful and true, and profitable to those wishing to pay attention and be persuaded. For it promises to show (but do not riot) that no one who is wronged is wronged by any other, but suffers this from himself. B
Chapter 2. That it may be clearer
And so that the discourse may be clearer, come, let us first examine what injustice is, and about what kind of matters it is naturally constituted; and what in the world is human virtue, and what is that which harms it; and what in the world seems to harm it, but does not harm it. For instance (for it is necessary to make the discourse complete by an example), each of the things has one thing that harms it: iron is harmed by rust, wool by the moth, the flocks of sheep by wolves. And the harm to the virtue of wine is its being turned and falling into sourness; of honey, the losing of its innate sweetness and being carried down into a bitter juice. It is harmed, and crops are harmed by blight and drought, and the fruit of vines, and leaves, and branches by the wicked army of locusts, and other trees by the caterpillar, and irrational bodies by manifold diseases; and so that we do not make the discourse long by going through everything, even our flesh is subject to fevers, and paralysis, and a swarm of other diseases. Just as, therefore, each of these has that which harms its own virtue, come, let us examine what it is that harms the human race, and what is that which harms the virtue of a man. The many, then, think it is other certain things. For it is necessary to state even the mistaken opinions, and after removing them, thus to bring into the middle that which truly harms our virtues, and to show clearly that no one could wrong us in this injustice, nor harm us in this harm, if we did not betray ourselves. The many, then, having mistaken opinions, think that other things are what harm our virtue: some, poverty; others, bodily disease; others, loss of money; others, calumny; others, death. And they continue to mourn these things and lament, and pitying those who suffer, and weeping, and astounded, they say to one another: "What has so-and-so suffered? He was suddenly stripped of all his substance." Another again about another: "Such-and-such has fallen into a grievous illness and is given up for lost by the physicians visiting him." And one laments those who inhabit the prison, another those who have fallen from their homeland and migrated to a foreign country, another those who have lost their freedom, another those who have been snatched by enemies and become captives, another those who have been drowned, or burned, another those who have been crushed by a house; but no one laments those living in wickedness. But—which is the most grievous of all—they often even call them blessed, which is the cause of all evils. Come then (but as I begged from the beginning, do not riot), let us show that none of the things mentioned wrongs the man who is vigilant, nor could it harm his virtue. What, tell me, if a man has lost all his own things, either to calumniators, or to robbers, or even to wicked servants who have taken away his belongings—has this loss harmed the man regarding his virtue? Or rather, if it seems good, let us first describe what the virtue of a man is, having practiced the discourse on other beings first, so as to make it easier for the many to understand.3. What then is the virtue of a horse? Is it to have a golden bit, and straps of such a kind, and a binding for the saddle made of silk threads, and variegated, gold-embroidered rugs, and jewelry set with precious stones, and...
Chapter 2.
A ...and to have a gait that is graceful, and to have hooves suited to a noble horse; to be endowed with strength, fit for long journeys and wars; to be able to stand in the battle line with great courage, and to keep the rider safe in flight? Is it not clear that the virtue of a horse consists in these things, and not in those? But what would you say is the virtue of donkeys and mules? Is it not the ability to carry burdens with ease, to complete journeys easily, and to have feet that imitate rocks in their firmness? Shall we say that the things with which they are covered on the outside contribute anything to their own virtue? By no means. What vineyard, then, shall we admire? One covered with leaves and shoots, or one laden with fruit? And what do we say is the virtue of an olive tree? When it has large branches and a thick head of foliage, or when it displays its own fruit in abundance, dispersed everywhere? Thus, therefore, let us act also in the case of men. Let us distinguish the virtue of a person, and let us consider only that to be a loss which violates it.
What, then, is the virtue of a person? It is not money, so that you should fear poverty; nor is it the health of the body, so that you should fear disease; nor is it the opinion of the multitude, so that you should be suspicious of a bad reputation; nor is it life simply by itself without rejection and a certain set goal, so that death should be formidable to you; nor is it liberty, so that you should flee from slavery: but rather, a diligent study of true doctrines and an honest life. These, indeed, not even the devil himself will be able to snatch away, if the possessor guards them with the care that is due; and that most wicked and savage demon knows this. B For this very reason he also stripped Job of his goods, not to render him poor, but to force him to utter some blasphemous word: and he mangled his body, not to throw him into disease, but to undermine the virtue of his soul. Yet, even when he had set in motion all his machines, and had made him a poor man from a rich one (a thing which to us seems most horrible of all), a man childless from a father of many children; when he had lacerated his entire body more grievously than the torturers in the praetoriums (for the claws of those men do not gouge the sides of those who fall into their hands as the worms mangled his flesh), when he had brought upon him a bad reputation (for the friends who were present said: "You have not paid penalties worthy of your sins," and they accused him with many words), when he had not merely banished him from the city or home, but had set up a dunghill for him in the place of a house and city, he not only did him no harm, but through these snares he even rendered him more illustrious. He did not take away any of his goods—although he had taken away so many and such great things—but he even procured for him greater riches of virtue. For he enjoyed greater confidence thereafter, since he had performed a more difficult struggle.
If, then, he who has suffered such great things received no detriment, having suffered not at the hands of a man, but at the hands of a demon more wicked than all men, what excuse will anyone have hereafter who is accustomed to say: "This man brought me harm or detriment"? For if the devil, full of such great wickedness, having applied all his instruments, having shot all his arrows, having piled up all the evils that existed among men upon the family C of that just man and upon his body, did no harm to the man, but, as I said, actually did him good: how will some be able to accuse this one or that one, as if one were harmed by another, and not rather by themselves?
Chapter 4: He proves the same by the example of Adam; he responds to the objection regarding punishments and torments.
What, then, will someone say? "Did he not harm and supplant Adam, and cast him out of Paradise?" Not he, but the slothfulness of the one who was harmed, who had been neither sober nor vigilant. For if, with all the machines he had brought to bear, he could not disturb Job, how could he have overcome Adam with smaller ones, unless he had surrendered himself through his own slothfulness?
What then? He who has been circumvented by calumniators and proscribed, with his goods confiscated—has he not received harm, being stripped of all his possessions, having lost his patrimony, struggling with extreme poverty? He has not received harm, but profit, if he is sober. For what, I ask, did this harm the Apostles? Did they not constantly struggle with hunger, thirst, and nakedness? And for this very reason they were all the more illustrious and famous, and they obtained great help from God. What did disease, ulcers, poverty, and the loneliness of those to attend him hamper Lazarus? Were the crowns not woven for him all the more by these things? What did the bad reputation, gathered at home and abroad, do to Joseph? For he was even considered an adulterer and a lecher. What of his slavery? What of his exile? Do we not admire and stand in awe of him most of all for these things? Why do I speak of exile, poverty, bad reputation, and slavery? What harm did death itself do to Abel, even though it was violent and premature, and brought about wickedly by his brother's hand? Is he not celebrated everywhere on earth for this very reason?
Do you see how the argument has demonstrated more than it promised? For it has declared not only that no one is harmed by anyone, but also that those who are attentive to themselves actually make a profit. D "For whose sake, then," someone will say, "are punishments and tortures? For whose sake does Gehenna exist? For whose sake are so many threats leveled, if no one gives or receives harm?" What do you say? Why do you confuse the argument? For I did not say that no one gives harm, but that no one receives it. "By what reasoning," you will say, "can it be possible that while many give harm, no one receives it?" By the reasoning I have already taught. For the brothers gave harm to Joseph, yet he himself did not receive it; and Cain set snares for Abel, yet he was not entangled in them.
For this cause, punishments and tortures were instituted. For God does not abolish punishments because of the virtue of those who suffer, but proposes tortures because of the wickedness of those who act maliciously. For even if those who suffer some evil at the hands of plotters emerge more illustrious, this is to be attributed not to the intent of the plotters, but to the fortitude of those against whom the plots are constructed. Therefore, rewards of wisdom are established and prepared for the former, and punishments of wickedness for the latter.
Are you stripped of your money? Say: "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return" (Job 1:21); add that apostolic saying: "For we brought nothing into this world; there is no doubt that we are not able to take anything out" (1 Tim 6:7). Have you heard evil, and has someone burdened you with six hundred insults? Remember that saying: "Woe to you when all men shall bless you" (Luke 6:26); and, "Rejoice and be glad, when..."
you are banished, consider that you have no home here; but if you intend to philosophize, you have been commanded to consider the entire earth a foreign land. But have you been delivered up to a grievous disease? Repeat that apostolic saying: "Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day" (2 Cor. 4:16). But has someone suffered a violent death? Consider John, and his head cut off in prison, brought upon a platter, and becoming the price of a harlot’s dance. Consider the rewards that follow from this: for all these afflictions, when they are unjustly inflicted upon someone by another, both dissolve sins and produce righteousness. Such is the magnitude of their benefit to those who bear them nobly.
5. Since, therefore, neither the loss of money, nor slander and insults, nor being moved into exile, nor diseases and tortures, nor even that which is thought to be the most terrifying of all, death, harms those who suffer them, but rather benefits them all the more, from where can you show me anyone being treated unjustly, when they are not being injured by these things at all? For I shall attempt to demonstrate the opposite: namely, that those who are most injured and abused, and who suffer incurable things, are those who commit these acts. For what could be more wretched than Cain, who treated his brother so? Or what is more miserable than the wife of Philip, who beheaded John? Or what of the brothers of Joseph, who sold him and had him sent into exile? Or what of the devil, who afflicted Job with so many evils? For it is not only of other things, but also in this way that he will pay more than the usual penalty for his malice. Do you see how here too the discourse proved more than it promised? It shows that those who are abused not only suffer no injury from these conspirators, but that the entirety of it turns back upon the heads of those who conspire! Since neither wealth, nor being free, nor inhabiting one's own country, nor the other things I mentioned, are virtues of a human being, but rather the achievements of the soul; logically, when the harm is done to these things, human virtue is in no way damaged. What then, if someone is harmed in the very philosophy of the soul? Not even then, if he is harmed, is he harmed by another, but from within and by himself. How from within and by himself, one asks? When, having been scourged by someone, or stripped of what he possesses, or having suffered some other grievous abuse, he utters some blasphemous word, he has been harmed there, and harmed most severely, not by the one who abused him, but by his own faint-heartedness. For what I said before, I will say again: no man, even if he were ten thousand times as wicked, could inflict anything more evil or more bitter upon anyone than that accursed and implacable spirit, our enemy, the devil; yet this grievous spirit could not, through all the arrows he launched from every side against the one who lived before the Law and before grace, trip him up or cast him down. Such is the nobility of the soul. And what of Paul? Did he not suffer such terrible things, [465 B] that it is not easy even to list them? Living in prisons, wearing chains, being led about and dragged around, scourged by the Jews, stoned, having his back flayed not only with lashes but also with rods, shipwrecked, frequently falling among robbers, enduring civil war, being struck continuously by enemies and by acquaintances, plotted against with a myriad of plots, striving against hunger and nakedness, enduring other frequent and continuous hardships and afflictions—and what need is there to say much? Dying every day; yet suffering such great and terrible things, not only did he not utter a blasphemous word, but he rejoiced in these things and boasted; and now he says: “I rejoice in my sufferings” (Col. 1:24); and again: "Not only that, but we also boast in our afflictions" (Rom. 5:3). If, therefore, he himself rejoiced and boasted while suffering so much, what excuse will you have, what defense, you who do not endure even a small fraction of these things, yet blaspheme? [465 C]
6. But I am injured in another way, he says, and I would not blaspheme, but having been stripped of my money, I become useless for almsgiving, he says. These are excuses and pretexts. For if you are grieved on this account, learn clearly that poverty is no hindrance to almsgiving. For even if you are countless times a pauper, and even if you are poorer than the woman who possessed nothing but a handful of meal, who by emptying all her substance upon those in need was miraculously admired—and such poverty was no hindrance to such philanthropy; no, the alms from the two mites was so bountiful and honorary that it surpassed all the wealthy who had cast in many staters, outstripping them in the wealth of her judgment and the abundance of her zeal—clearly, even here you have not been injured, but have gained all the more, having received brighter crowns through a small contribution than those who laid down much. But since, even if we say these things ten thousand times, souls that are fond of the body and delight in wallowing in earthly affairs, and take pleasure in present things, would not easily endure to depart from these withering flowers (for such is the brightness of this life), nor stand to release their shadows; but the more reasonable ones hold fast to both the former and the latter, while the more pitiful and wretched ones hold fast more to the former, and very little to the latter. Come, let us strip away the bright and conspicuous masks from the shameful and ugly appearance of these things, and show the loathsomeness of the life that plays the harlot. [465 D] For such is that kind of life, the one that attends to luxury and wealth and power: shameful, ugly, and full of much loathsomeness, unpleasant, burdensome, and filled with bitterness. For this is indeed what most deprives those who are caught in it of any excuse, that although this life is filled with unpleasantness and much bitterness, it is still sought after and highly pursued by them, and is full of a myriad of evils, dangers, blood, precipices, cliffs, murders, fears, constant counsel and care and anxiety, and trembling, and envy, and malice, and having no profit, nor bringing any fruit from such great evils, other than punishment and retribution, and being continuously tormented. Even though it is such, [466 A] it seems to be enviable and highly contested by the many, arising from the folly of those being caught, not from the blessedness of the thing itself. For even little children gape and are excited by toys, but could not even perceive things worthy of mature men. But for them there is excuse because of their untimely age; these, however, are cast out from having any defense, having the mind of a child in a mature age, and behaving more senselessly than they. [466 B] [alt-version omitted]
De cupiditate divitiarum, et cur eæ sint expetendæ.
Dictionary of the Love of Wealth, and why it is to be sought.
Tell me, I pray you, for what reason are riches to be sought? For we must begin from this point, since they appear to most of those who have been seized by this serious malady to be more precious than health, life, the commendation of the people, and good reputation, and than country, kin, friends, and relatives, and all other things. Then, this funeral pyre ascends even to the clouds themselves; and this furnace has seized upon land and sea. And there is no one who extinguishes the flame; but all are those who kindle it, both those already captured and those who are not yet, so that they might be captured.
One may see each person—men and women, slaves and free, rich and poor—bearing burdens according to their strength, which provide much fuel for this flame by day and by night; burdens not of wood or brushwood (for this is not that kind of flame), but of souls and bodies, of injustice and iniquity. For the nature of this flame is fashioned in such a way that it is kindled by these things. For the rich nowhere set a limit to this absurd craving, even though they have acquired the whole world; and the poor strive to outstrip them; and a certain incurable rabies, a bridled frenzy, a malady past healing, holds every soul. This love, having defeated every other love, casts it out of the mind. Neither is account taken of friendship, nor of kinship; and what do I say of friendship and kinship? Not even of a wife and children, than which what can be dearer to men? But all things are cast to the ground and trampled underfoot wherever this cruel and inhuman mistress of the captured has occupied all minds. A For she is, as it were, the inhuman mistress of them, as a cruel tyrant, a barbarian, savage, and like a common and expensive harlot she disgraces, destroys, and exposes to six hundred perils and punishments those who have induced themselves to serve her; and although she is terrible, bitter, cruel, and savage, with a barbarian face, or rather a beastly one, and more ferocious than a wolf or a lion, she nevertheless seems gentle and desirable to those she has captured. And although she daily forges swords and arms against them, and digs pits, leads them to precipices and crags, and weaves infinite nets of punishment, she is yet judged to make those blessed, both by the captive themselves and by those who desire to be captured. B And just as a sow wallows with pleasure and delight in a sewer and muck, or as beetles continuously revolve in dung: so too are those captured by avarice more miserable than those creatures. For this filth is greater, and the muck smells more foul; for while they are engaged in this malady, they think they are reaping a great fruit of pleasure from it: which is not to be referred to the nature of the thing, but to the mind that is sick, and in that respect they are worse than those who are bereft of reason. Just as, therefore, in the muck and dung, the muck and dung are not the cause, but the lack of reason in the creatures immersing themselves: so also reason it in the case of man. C But how shall we heal those who are thus affected? If they were willing to open their ears to us, and unfold their minds, and embrace what is said. For we cannot transfer and lead away animals that are void of reason from their impure wallowing: for they are void of reason; but for this most gentle race, adorned by intelligence and reason—the human nature, I mean—if it wished, it is easy and very expeditious to deliver it from the muck and stench, from that dung and filth. Wherefore, O man, do riches seem to you greatly to be sought? Is it for the pleasure that is drawn from tables? For the honor and the company of those who court you for the sake of riches? For the power to avenge those who have offended you, and so that you may be a terror to all? For you will not be able to adduce other reasons than pleasure, adulation, terror, and vengeance; D for riches are not wont to render one wiser, nor more temperate, nor milder, nor more prudent in any way; they do not make one kind, nor humane, nor capable of controlling anger, nor commanding the belly, nor superior to desires; they do not teach moderation, nor humility, nor do they induce and implant any other part of virtue into the mind. Nor will you be able to say for what reason you are so studious and eager for them. For not only do they not know how to plant or sow any good things, but even if they find them already there, they waste them, hinder them, and cause them to wither away; for they pull up some things, and introduce things contrary to them: immoderate luxury, intemperate rage, unjust anger, arrogance, pride, and folly. But I will not speak of these: for those who have been caught by this malady would not endure to hear of virtue and vice, if they were blamed and convicted at the same time, since they are entirely in pleasure, and on that account are its servants. 468 A Come then, leaving aside for the meantime the discussion about these things, let us bring the rest into the middle, and see whether riches have any pleasure, whether they have any honor; for I see all things to be contrary. And if you wish, let us first inquire into the tables of the rich and the poor, and ask those who are eating, which of them most of all enjoy a pure and liquid pleasure? Those who lie on beds until the middle of the day, joining dinners with lunches, bursting their bellies, depraving their senses, sinking their ship with an immoderate burden of foods, making an inexhaustible and overflowing bilge, and as in a shipwreck of the body overwhelm the ship with waves, B binding themselves with foot-shackles, hand-cuffs, and bonds of the tongue, and binding their whole body with a bond of drunkenness and luxury more grievous than an iron chain, and neither obtaining sincere and pure sleep, nor are they free from horrible nightmares, more miserable than those who are raving, bringing a certain voluntary demon into their souls, exposed to the laughter of their watching servants, nay rather even to the grief and tears of the better among them; knowing none of those who are present, and able neither to say what they wish, nor to hear, but are carried from the dining couches to their little beds by the hands of those who carry them? Or rather those who are sober, vigilant, and who define the measure by necessity, sail with fair winds, and for the greatest relish, both in food and in drink, have hunger and thirst...
that is agreeable; for nothing produces pleasure and health so much as for one who is hungry and thirsty to partake of the things set before him in such a manner, and to acknowledge satiety as the only necessity, and not to overstep the starting-lines of this, nor to impose on the body a burden greater than its strength.
8. B But if you do not believe my word, consider the bodies of both, and the soul of each. Are not the bodies of those who live in such moderation (do not allege to me what happens rarely, or if some are infirm due to some other circumstance, but take your judgment from what is always and continuously happening), are not the bodies of those who eat moderately strong, and their senses sharpened, fulfilling their proper need with much ease? And are not those othersflaccid, and softer than any wax, and besieged by a swarm of diseases? For gout swiftly flies upon them, and untimely tremor, and premature old age, and headaches, and distensions, and failures of the stomach, and loss of appetite, and they have need of constant physicians, and continuous medicines, and daily treatment. Are these things pleasurable, tell me? And who among those that know what pleasure is would say so? For pleasure occurs then, when a longing leads and enjoyment follows; but if enjoyment exists, yet the longing appears nowhere, the elements of pleasure depart and are vanished. For this reason also, those who are ill, although esteemed foods are set before them, are nauseated, and seem to be troubled, and so they taste of them; because desire is not present, which makes enjoyment most sweet. For it is not the nature of foods, nor of drinks, but the appetite of those who eat that is accustomed to beget desire, and is naturally constituted to produce pleasure. C For this reason, a certain wise man, who knew the matters of pleasure accurately and understood how to philosophize about them, said: *A soul filled with honeycombs plays* (Prov. 27:7); showing that pleasure rests not in the nature of the table, but in the disposition of those who eat. For this reason also the prophet, recounting the miracles in Egypt and those in the wilderness, said among other things: *He satisfied them with honey from the rock* (Ps. 80:17). And yet, honey is nowhere seen to have gushed from the rock for them. What then is the thing that is said? Since, having been worn out by much labor and travel, and held by vehement thirst, they fell upon the cool springs, having thirst instead of a great condiment, desiring to represent the pleasure of those streams, he called the water honey, not as if its nature had changed into honey, but as if the pleasure of the water vied with that sweetness, because those who partook of it fell upon it while thirsty. When, therefore, these things are in this state, and no one can gainsay it, even if he be very insensitive; is it not transparent that at the tables of the poor there is pure and sincere and vehement pleasure? But at the tables of the rich there is disgust, and abomination, and defilement? And as that wise man said, *And sweet things seem to be troublesome.*
9. D “But wealth,” he says, “prepares those who possess it to be honored, and to take vengeance on enemies with ease.” For this reason, then, tell me, does it seem to you desirable and sought after, that it nourishes in us the most grievous passions: wrath and taking action, and while lifting the bubbles of vainglory into a greater tumor, it encourages and stirs us up toward madness? For these reasons, therefore, it ought most especially to be fled from without looking back, because it introduces into our mind certain wild and cruel beasts, robbing us of the real honor from all, and coloring the opposite of that out with its own colors, and thus presenting it to those who are deceived, and persuading them to think that this is that, not being such in nature, but appearing so in appearance. For just as the beauty of harlots, composed of paints and pigments, is stripped of beauty, yet makes the shameful and ugly appearance seem beautiful and fair to those deceived by her, not being beautiful; so also does wealth, by forcing adulation, make it appear as honor. For do not set before me the praises occurring in public due to fear and fawning; but unfold the conscience of each of those who flatter you, and you shall see ten thousand accusers crying out within you, and hating and loathing you more than the most extreme enemies and foes. [C in margin] And if ever the mask composed of this fear should be removed and refuted by a change of events, just as the sun by casting a hotter ray dissipates those apparitions—then you will see that for all the preceding time you were in the utmost dishonor among those who tended you, and you thought you were enjoying honor from those who most of all hated you, and were washing you with ten thousand insults in their minds, and desiring in extreme calamities to see you. For nothing is accustomed to make honor real as virtue, which is not forced honor, which is not feigned, nor hidden by any mask of deception, but is true and genuine, and is refuted by no difficulty of times.
10. D Indeed, do you wish to take vengeance on those who have grieved you? For this very reason most especially, as I have already said, wealth is to be avoided. For it prepares you to push the sword against yourself, and makes your responsibilities in the future more grievous, and makes your punishments intolerable. So great an evil is taking vengeance, that it even recalled the philanthropy of God, and rendered void the forgiveness of sins already granted. For he who received the remission of ten thousand talents, and having enjoyed such a gift from a simple request, because he made a demand of a hundred denarii from his fellow-servant—that is, because he demanded justice for the transgressions against him—in his severity toward his fellow-servant, he brought down the condemnation against himself; and for no other reason, but for this alone, he was handed over to the tormentors, and was tortured, and was ordered to pay the ten thousand talents; and he enjoyed no forgiveness, nor even a place for apology, but suffered the irremediable, being ordered to pay back all the debt which the philantrophy of God had previously forgiven. For this reason, then, tell me, is wealth sought after by you, because it leads you with ease into such a sin? And yet, for this very reason it ought to be turned away from as an enemy and a foe and one full of ten thousand murders. “But poverty,” he says,
Chapter 10. Whether riches cause us to take vengeance on enemies; he defends poverty with the example of Lazarus
A ...and, even if he be injured by everyone, he suffers no harm; for I shall repeat the same argument again. You say it creates distress and often causes you to utter blasphemous words against God and to undertake unworthy acts. It is not poverty [that does this], but faint-heartedness. For Lazarus was a poor man, and a very poor man indeed; and to his poverty was added B infirmity, which is more bitter than any poverty and which made the poverty itself more grievous; and to the infirmity [was added] solitude and the lack of those to attend to him, which made both the poverty and the infirmity more bitter. For each of these things is of itself troublesome; but when there are none to provide care, the disaster becomes greater, the flame more savage, the pain more bitter, the storm more fearful, the waves more vehement, the furnace hotter. But if anyone were to examine it precisely, a fourth thing was added to these, namely the license and luxury of the rich man living in the neighborhood. And if you wish to find a fifth thing besides, the fuel for that flame, you will see it clearly also in this. For that rich man was not only indulging his own nature, but even if he saw him a second or third time, or rather, very often throughout the day—for he lay by the entrance, a grim spectacle of a miserable tragedy, one who by his mere appearance could have softened even a heart of stone; yet this failed to move that inhuman man to relieve him of that poverty. Rather, he set a Sybaritic table, had full craters, wine to be poured generously, brilliant armies of cooks, parasites and flatterers at early dawn, and choirs of singers, of wine-pourers, of those creating laughter—he devised every kind of carousing; he was constantly living in drunkenness, in gluttony, in the luxury of clothes, of the table, and of many other things. But that man, whom he saw day by day being crushed by severe hunger, by the most bitter disease, by the siege of so many ulcers, by solitude, and by the evils resulting from these, he did not even once admit into his mind; his parasites and flatterers were nearly bursting from excess in feasting; yet this poor man, and so poor, surrounded by so many evils, obtained not even the crumbs from that table, though he greatly desired them. And yet, not one of these things harmed him, nor did he utter an C angry word, nor did he speak a blasphemous utterance. But just as gold shines yet more brightly when purified by a more intense fire, so too he, vexed by these afflictions, was superior to all things, as much to the blows as to the perturbations that arise from them for many. For if, quite simply, the poor, when they see the rich, are consumed by envy and wasted away by spite, and think their life is not worth living—and this when they have the necessary food and those who serve them—how disturbed in spirit would this man have been, poor as was no other, and not only poor but also infirm, and having no one to stand by him or offer solace, lying in the middle of the city as if in the utmost solitude, wasting away with the most bitter hunger, seeing all things flowing as if from springs, destitute of every human comfort, set as if at a continuous banquet for the tongues of dogs (for his members were so luxuriously and dissolutely broken that he could not even drive them off)—how would he have fared, had he not been very generous and wise? Do you see, that he who does not wish to harm himself cannot be harmed by anyone else? And as to him who does not wish to be vigilant and sober, no one will ever be of service. Therefore, to you the wondrous history of the Scriptures is...
Chapter 11. ...
...the lives, from Adam... D What of the blessed Paul, tell me? For there is nothing to prevent us mentioning the man again. Did he not endure endless showers of temptations as if they were snow? What harm did he receive from them? Was it not because of this that he was endowed with greater crowns, because he had hungered, because he was worn out by cold and nakedness, because he was repeatedly cut by scourging, because he was targeted with stones, because he was submerged in the sea? But he was Paul, you say, and called by Christ. But Judas also was one of the twelve, called also by Christ; yet neither his being one of the twelve, nor the calling of Christ profited him anything, because he did not have a mind prepared for virtue. But Paul indeed, both struggling with hunger and lacking necessary food, and suffering so much day by day, ran with great eagerness the path that leads to heaven; whereas the other, having been called even before him, and having partaken of the same blessings as he did, initiated into the highest philosophy, a participant in the sacred table and that tremendous supper, having attained such grace that he even raised the dead, cleansed lepers, and expelled demons—having heard so many sermons about poverty and having lived so long with Christ, and having been entrusted with the money of the poor so that he might take solace from it for his infirmity (for he was a thief)—not even thus was he made better, although he experienced such indulgence. For when Christ knew that he was avaricious and would perish through the love of money, not only did He not exact a penalty from him at that time for this, but in order to soothe his infirmity and to prevent the greater evil with a lesser one, He even entrusted him with the money of the poor, so that, having wherewith to satisfy the craving for money, he might not fall into that horrible abyss.
Chapter 12. Why Scripture describes the falls of the wicked; the parable of the builders is explained
Thus, nowhere will anyone be able to harm the one who does not wish to harm himself; but to him who is not willing to be vigilant and sober and to contribute his own effort, no one will ever be of any help. Therefore, the wondrous history of the Scriptures is for you...
473 S. JOANNIS CHRYSOSTOMI ARCHIEP. CONSTANTINOP. A scribed their lives, extending his narrative from Adam down to the coming of Christ; and he shows you both those who are tripped up and those who are crowned, so that he may instruct you through everything, that no one else can harm the person who is not harmed by himself, even if the whole world were to stir up a grievous war against him. B For neither the difficulty of circumstances, nor the changes of times, nor the injuries of those in power, nor the swarms of plots, nor the multitude of calamities, nor the accumulated heap of all the evils among men will be able to disturb in the least the man who is noble, sober, and vigilant; just as, on the other hand, the one who is slothful, listless, and betrayed from within—even if countless remedies are applied—they make no better. C This is, indeed, what the parable concerning those men revealed to us, one of whom built his house upon the rock, and the other upon the sand; not that we should understand sand and rock, nor that we should understand stone building and roofing, nor rivers and rain and wild winds falling upon buildings, but that we should take from these virtue and vice, and see from this that no one harms the person who does not harm himself. Therefore, neither the rain, although falling violently, nor the rivers rushing with a great roar, nor the wild winds attacking with forceful impetuosity, disturbed that house in any way; but it remained unassailable and immovable: so that you may learn that no temptation can shake the person who does not betray himself. D The house of the other man, however, fell easily, not because of the impact of the temptations (for otherwise the other would have suffered the same), but because of his own folly; for it did not fall because the wind blew, but because it had been built upon the sand—that is, upon sloth and wickedness—that is why it suffered this. For even before that storm struck, it was weak and ready to fall. For such buildings, even with no one disturbing them, collapse of their own accord as their foundation is undermined and washes away entirely. And just as spiderwebs are torn apart of their own accord without anyone disturbing them, while the diamond remains indestructible even when struck; so too those who do not harm themselves, even if they are struck by myriads, become stronger: but those who betray themselves, even if there is no one annoying them, of their own accord fall, and wash away, and perish. Just as also Judas, not only with no such temptation annoying him, but even after having enjoyed much healing, perished.
13. Do you wish me to show you this word shining forth also in whole nations? A What providence did the nation of the Jews not enjoy? Was not the whole of visible creation prepared for their service? And was not a new and strange mode of life introduced for them? For they did not enter the marketplace, and thus enjoy wares, by putting down money; nor did they cut furrows, nor drag a plow, nor tear up the earth, nor cast seeds, nor did they need rains and winds and seasons of the year, nor sun-ray, nor lunar course, nor nature of the air, nor any other of such things; they did not prepare a threshing floor, nor grind grain, nor need winds to separate the wheat from the chaff, nor did they fix a mill, nor build an oven, nor bring wood and fire into the house, B nor did they need the art of baking, nor handle a butcher's knife, nor sharpen a sickle, nor need any other art, I mean textile and architectural and that which provides footwear; but everything was the Word of God for them. And they had an easy life, free from sweat and labors. For such is the nature of manna: new and fresh, and nowhere causing them trouble, nor straining them with labor. And their garments, too, and their shoes, and the very nature of their body forgot its inherent weakness; for in such a long time neither did those wear out, nor were their feet calloused, although they walked so much. Of physicians and medicines, and other such zeal regarding such an art, there was not even a memory among them; so far away was every infirmity. For he led them out in silver and gold, he says; and there was not among their tribes one who was weak. C But as if leaving this world and translated to another and better inhabited earth, so they ate, so they drank, and neither did the ray, becoming warmer, strike their heads; for a cloud suspended on all sides, becoming a movable roof for all those multitudes, shielded off the flame. Neither did they need a lamp in the night to divide the darkness, but the pillar of fire was for them a source of unutterable light, providing a double utility, that of shining, and that of directing their journey. For it was not only luminous, but also guided that immense nation through that desert more accurately than any guide. D They walked not only on land, but also on the sea as if on land; and they dared the bounds of nature, crossing that terrible sea, walking as if upon a solid and unyielding rock; and when it was spread out for them, the element imitated firm land, and flat plains, and fields; but when it received their enemies, it performed the works of the sea; and for them it became a vehicle, for their enemies a tomb; easily conveying the one, while drowning the others with great violence. And the disordered rush of the waters displayed the obedience and order of rational and most wise men, holding the role, now of a guardian, now of an executioner, and in one day displaying opposites all at once. What might one say of the rocks that released rivers of water? Or of the clouds of birds, which with the multitude of their bodies covered the whole earth? What of the miracles in Egypt? What of the paradoxes in the wilderness? What of the trophies and victories occurring without blood? For as if dancing, not as if warring, they vanquished their opponents. And they overcame their own masters without weapons; and those who fought them after Egypt, by trumpeting and chanting, they thus overcame; and the events were more a dance than a war, more a mystery than a battle. For all these wonders did not come to pass only so that He might fulfill their need, but so that they might also more accurately preserve the instruction of the knowledge of God that Moses had placed in them; and voices were carried from everywhere proclaiming the Master. For the sea shouted these things, now...
475 S. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE, 475
and through a difficult journey, now would return to their senses; this was the voice which the waves uttered. The Nile changing into blood, the frogs, that army of locusts, the caterpillars, and the blight, all these things spoke to the whole people. The wonders in the wilderness, too—the manna, the pillar, the cloud, the quail, and all the rest—served them in the place of a book and written characters that are never erased, while they daily refreshed their memory and sounded in their minds. Yet nevertheless, after such and so great a providence, after those ineffable benefits, after so many miracles, after the unspeakable care, after the long institution, after the instruction of words, after the exhortation of the very deeds, after the distinguished victories, after the admirable trophies, after the splendor of the tables, after the abundance of those waters, after the ineffable glory which they had obtained among the whole human race, being ungrateful and stupid, they worshipped a calf and honored the head of an ox, and demanded that gods be made for them, though they held the recent monuments of the benefits received from God in Egypt and were still enjoying many other things besides.
Caput 14: Another example of the Ninevites confirms that afflictions cannot harm a man
The people of Nineveh, in truth, being barbarian and alien, having participated in none of these things—neither in small nor in great, neither in orations, nor in miracles, nor in matters, nor in words—having seen a man saved from a shipwreck, never having associated with him before, but seeing him then for the first time, entering and saying: "Yet three days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown" (Jon. 3.4), were so changed and made better by these bare words, and having cast off their former wickedness, they contended for virtue through repentance, that they revoked the decree of God, caused the tottering city to stand, turned back the wrath hanging over them from heaven, and were freed from every affliction. For God saw, it says, "that each one turned from his evil way, and turned to the Lord" (Ibid. v. 10). How did he turn, tell me? And yet their malice was great, their wickedness ineffable, the sores difficult to cure; and to indicate this, the prophet said: "Their malice has ascended as far as the heaven" (Jon. 1.2): the distance of the place signified the magnitude of their malice. Yet nevertheless, such great wickedness, so elevated and exalted that it reached even to heaven, they routed, they abolished, they removed from the midst in three days, in a brief moment of time, with few words which they had heard from one man, an unknown person, a stranger, one who had suffered shipwreck, in such a way that they were restored by such a voice: God saw that each one turned from his evil way, and it repented Him of the wickedness which God had spoken that He would do to them. Do you see that the sober and vigilant person is not only not harmed by men, but even turns away the wrath hanging down from heaven? While he who betrays and harms himself, even if he receives infinite benefits, does not make much profit? For thus, neither did those great portents benefit them, nor did the lack of them harm these others: but since they were naturally candid, having obtained a small moment, they turned out better, although they were barbarians and aliens, having heard none of the divine oracles, and living far removed from Palestine.
Caput 15: Concerning the three youths, the associates of Daniel
Did the evils that came upon them, tell me, harm the virtue of those three youths? Were they not still young, indeed very young, in an immature age when they underwent that grave punishment and captivity; were they not taken on a long journey, exiled from their fatherland, home, temple, altar, sacrifices, offerings, libations, and even from the very singing of the psalms themselves, being separated when they came into a foreign land? For it was not only that their home was inaccessible to them for that reason, but also many kinds of divine worship. Were they not handed over to the hands of barbarians, to wolves rather than men, and, which is the most grievous thing, were they not led away into a land so far distant and barbarian, and under a most grievous servitude, where they had no teacher, no prophet, no prince? "For there is not," it says, "a prince, or prophet, or leader, or a place of sacrificing before Thee, and to find mercy" (Dan. 3.38). Nay more, they were introduced into the royal house, as if into some reef and precipice, and a sea filled with rocks and stones lurking under the water, without a pilot, without a bowman, without sailors, compelled to navigate that savage sea; and they were shut up in the royal court as if in a prison. For since they knew how to philosophize, and were superior to secular things, and had trampled upon all human pride, and had made wings for themselves to be light, they considered this even further, that that sojourn was an accession of evils. For if they had been outside, and in a private house, they were about to enjoy greater liberty: but in truth, having been introduced into that prison (for they deemed all that show of splendor and magnificence, given the precipices and reefs, to be no better than a prison), they immediately sustained a grave difficulty. For the king ordered them to be partners of his luxurious and impure and profane table, a thing which was forbidden to them, and which seemed more grievous than death: and they alone were shut up as if they were lambs in the midst of so many wolves. It was necessary either to waste away from hunger, or rather to be snatched to death, or to taste the forbidden food. What then do the youths do, orphans, captives, foreigners, servants of those who were ordering these things? They did not consider necessity to be enough for an excuse, nor the tyranny of the one who possessed the city; but they were plotting and contriving everything so that they might escape sin, although they were deserted from every side. For they could not persuade with money, since they were captives; not by friendship and familiarity, since they were foreigners; not by power to overcome, since they were servants; not to win by multitude, since they were only three. Therefore they approached the eunuch who held that power, and persuaded him with words. For when they had found him to be trembling and timid, and anxious about his own safety, and the fear of death was shaking his soul—"For I fear," he says, "my lord the king, lest he see your faces looking more haggard than the other youths of your own age, and you condemn my head to the king" (Dan. 1.10)—having freed him from that fear, they induce him to grant them that favor. And after...
when they had fulfilled their own part, God also in turn fulfilled His. For the achievement was not God’s alone in these matters for which they were to receive a reward, but the beginning and the preludes were of their own resolve; by providing this, noble and courageous, they drew upon themselves the inclination of God, and brought to completion what they had striven for. B 16. Do you see that no one else can injure him who does not injure himself? Behold, then: as for youth, and captivity, and orphanhood, and deportation to a foreign land, and seclusion and forsakenness by those who should have stood by them, and a grievous command, and the great fear of death that loomed like a rampart in the eunuch’s mind, and poverty, and scarcity, and the fact of being in the midst of barbarians, and having enemies as masters, and being handed over to the very hands of kings, and the separation from all their kin, and the alienation from priests and prophets and others who had care of them, and the cessation of libations and sacrifices, and the removal of the temple and the psalms—none of these things harmed them. On the contrary, they flourished more greatly then than when they enjoyed these things in their own country. Having completed this first contest, and having bound a brilliant crown about themselves, and having kept the Law even in a foreign land, and having trampled underfoot a tyrannical command, and having conquered the fear of the fiend, and having suffered no harm from any quarter, just as if they were sitting at home, they thus finished the work without anxiety and were called to other tests. And they were the same men again; and a contest more grievous than the former was imposed upon them: a furnace was kindled, and a barbarian army was drawn up against them along with the king; and the entire Persian power was stirred up, and everything was contrived for their deception and violence: varied kinds of music, and diverse modes of punishment, and threats, and an appearance that was fearful on every side, and words more fearful than the appearance. But still, since they did not betray themselves, but contributed all that was their own, they were never harmed in any way; rather, they bound about themselves crowns more brilliant than the former. For Nebuchadnezzar did indeed bind them and cast them into the furnace, yet he did not harm them, but rather benefited them more greatly, and made them more illustrious. And having no temple (for I shall say the same things again), nor altar, nor fatherland, nor priests, nor prophets, in a foreign and barbarian land, in the very midst of the furnace, between all that army, while the king himself who was working these things was watching, they set up a brilliant trophy and carried off a manifest victory, singing that wondrous and paradoxical song, which from that time is sung to this day everywhere in the inhabited world, and will be sung even in future generations. Thus, therefore, when no one injures himself, he can be harmed by no one else; for I shall not cease constantly to sing this statement. For if captivity, and slavery, and seclusion, and loss of fatherland and all one’s kin, and death, and conflagration, and such a great army, and a tyrant so cruel, did not have the power to mar anything in the own virtue of three young men, captives, slaves, strangers, being in a foreign land, but rather the intrigue became an occasion for them for greater boldness; what will be able to injure him who is sober? There is nothing, even if he has the whole world warring against him. But, you say, God stood by them then and snatched them from the flame. Most certainly; and if you also provide all that is your own, what comes from God will surely follow. C 17. Nevertheless, I do not admire and congratulate those youths and call them enviable for this reason alone, that they trampled the flame and became stronger than the activity of the fire; but because they were bound for the sake of true doctrines, and were cast into a furnace, and were handed over to the fire. For here their entire trophy was perfected; and as soon as they were brought down into the furnace, a crown was being placed upon them, and at the time of those words it began to be woven, even before the outcome of events, which they spoke when brought into the presence of the king with much boldness and frankness: "We have no need to give thee an answer regarding this matter. For our God, whom we serve, is in the heavens, and is able to deliver us from the furnace of burning fire; and he will deliver us from thy hands, O king. But if not, be it known to thee, O king, that we do not serve thy gods, and we do not worship the golden image which thou hast set up" (Dan. 3:16-18). From these words I proclaim them victorious; from these, having seized the prize of victory, they ran to the brilliant crown of martyrdom, adding the confession of deeds to the confession of words. But if, when they were cast in, the fire respected their bodies, and loosened their bonds, and granted them to walk below without fear, and forgot its own natural activity, and the furnace became a spring of cool waters: this was then a miracle of the grace of God and of the supernatural operation from above. For the athletes, even before these things happened, as soon as they stepped into the flame, both set up the trophy, and carried off the victory, and bound on the crown, and were proclaimed both in heaven and on earth, and nothing was lacking for them for their success. What, then, could you have to say to these things? Have you been carried off into exile, and have you been cast out of your fatherland? Behold, these same things happened to them. Have you endured captivity, and did you come under barbarian masters? But you will find that this also happened to them. But you do not have anyone present there to correct your affairs, nor to admonish and teach you? They, too, were deprived of this care. But have you been bound? But have you been burned? But have you died? For you cannot say to me anything more grievous than these. But behold, they, too, passing through all things, became more brilliant through each of these, and far more illustrious, and gathered greater treasure in the heavens. And the Jews, though they possessed a temple, and an altar, and the ark, and the Cherubim, and the mercy seat, and the veil, and an infinite multitude of priests, and daily worships, and morning and evening sacrifices, and continuously hearing the prophets, the living and the dead, resounding in their ears, and bearing about the memory of the wonders in Egypt, and in the desert, and all the others, and rocking these on their hands, having them written on their doorposts, and enjoying much wondrous power at that time, not only did they gain no benefit, but they were even harmed, having set up idols in the very temple itself, and having slaughtered their sons and daughters under trees, and everywhere, almost, in the land of Palestine committing those unlawful deeds.
had done, and having dared infinite other more atrocious crimes. Yet these men, living in the midst of barbarism, in a hostile and enemy-inhabited land, in a tyrannical house, and deprived of all that care, being dragged to punishment and burned, not only were they not harmed thereby, not in a small or great degree, but indeed they shone even more brightly. Having known these things, therefore, and having gathered similar examples from the divinely inspired Scriptures (for many such examples are to be found, even in the case of different persons), let us not think that the difficulty of times or circumstances, or the necessity, violence, and tyranny of those in power, is sufficient for our defense when we commit sin. For that which I said in the beginning, I will also now use to end my discourse: if anyone receives any harm or detriment, he receives this entirely from himself, not from others, even if there are infinite numbers of people who bring harm and injuries. For if indeed he does not receive these things from himself, even if all the inhabitants of the earth and sea were to rush in with a common counsel, they would not be able to trouble in the least him who is keeping watch and is sober in the Lord. Let us therefore be sober, I beseech you, and keep watch always, and let us bear all bitter things with a generous soul, so that we may possess those eternal and immortal goods, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory and empire, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.
ADMONITION
THE SAME AUTHOR'S DISCOURSE TO THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN SCANDALIZED BY ADVERSITIES, AND OVER THE PERSECUTION AND PERVERSION OF THE PEOPLE AND MANY PRIESTS, AND CONCERNING THE INCOMPREHENSIBLE, AND AGAINST THE JEWS
Physicians, indeed, when they undertake to cure those seized by fever or laboring under some other disease, study this first: to see the sick, because being positioned far from them, they would not be able to assist them with their own aid; for such is the condition of that art, and such is the nature of those diseases. But we, who study to heal not just one or another, but all who inhabit the whole world who have suffered scandal, require nothing of the kind. For we do not ask to gain access to the house of any of the sick, nor to learn where they lie, nay, we do not even desire to look upon the sick themselves. We do not handle instruments,