Oration to the Assembly of the Saints

Hear therefore, O pilot possessed of chastity and virginity; and you, O Church, nurse of the weak and tender age, to whom truth and clemency are a care, from whose perennial fountain a saving stream flows down. You also who sincerely worship God, and for that reason are a care to him, hear with favour, and direct your mind not so much to the words themselves as to the truth of the matters spoken; and regard not me as the speaker, but the devout duty of devotion. For what grace and profit will there be in a speech, unless the mind of the speaker has first been examined? I presume greatly perhaps. But the love implanted in me toward God is the cause of my boldness; for it does violence to modesty.

Therefore I would have you, who are instructed beyond others in the knowledge of divine mysteries, be present to aid me; so that if it should happen that I err in speaking, you yourselves, following in my footsteps, may correct me; and that you expect not some consummate doctrine from me, but rather graciously approve the effort of my faith. Moreover, may the singular help of the Father and the Son breathe upon us at this present time, as we say those things which he shall have commanded and suggested to our mind. For if anyone, professing rhetoric or any other art whatsoever, hopes to be able to accomplish his work fully without the help of the divine power, he is found raw and imperfect together with the work he has undertaken. But those upon whom the help of the divine power has once breathed, they ought by no means to cease and grow sluggish. Therefore, having begged your pardon for a rather lengthy preface, we shall attempt to approach the head and sum of our undertaking.

That good which all things desire, since God is always such by his own nature, has no origin, and therefore no beginning. He himself, however, is the beginning of all things that are begotten. But he who proceeded from him is again joined and united with him; inasmuch as separation and conjunction in him are accomplished not by intervals of space but by intellect alone. For that offspring did not come to be at any cost to the paternal substance, as those things which are born from seed, but the Saviour was brought forth by the disposition of divine providence, to preside over this visible world and over all the things and works fashioned within it. To all things, therefore, that are contained within the compass of the world, the cause of subsisting and living is supplied from him. From him comes the soul, from him all sense, and the faculties by which the things signified by the senses are brought to completion. What, then, does this argument conclude?

Namely, that there is one ruler of all things, and that all things are subject to the dominion of that one, both heavenly and earthly, and likewise natural and organic bodies. For if the dominion over these things, which are innumerable, resided not with one but with many, the allotment and division of the elements—as in the ancient fables—envy and the desire for more, striving to prevail with every exertion of strength, would disturb the harmonious concord of all things; each one, that is, administering the portion he had received by lot in a different manner. But from the fact that this whole world always maintains itself in one and the same way, it is sufficiently proved that this comes about not without providence, and that it did not happen by random chance. Who, moreover, would ever have recognized the maker of all matter? To whom first, to whom last, should prayers and supplications be addressed? How could it be that, having set out to worship one of them, I should not be impious toward the rest?

Or if perchance I should ask for something necessary to this life, shall I give thanks to that God who brought me aid, and revile the one who opposed me? Whom shall I beseech to reveal to me the cause of my calamity and to free me from it? Let us suppose that an answer has been given to us through oracles and prophecies, but that these things do not lie within their own power, but pertain to another God. What mercy, then, what providence of God toward man? Unless perhaps one of them, somewhat more humane than the rest, moved more vehemently against another who is affected by no goodwill toward men, should bring aid. Anger, moreover, and quarrels and reproaches, and in the end the confusion of all things, would follow from this, while each one by no means performed his own part, and, out of desire, not content with his own affairs, invaded those of others.

Certainly this discord of heavenly beings would bring ruin upon lower and earthly things; the order and succession of the seasons, and the benefit of the fruits that are wont to come forth at the several times of the year, being utterly taken away; taken away also the day, and the nocturnal rest that follows the day. But enough of these matters. Let us now return to those arguments which can in no way be refuted.

Whatever has had a beginning must also have an end. Moreover, a temporal beginning is called generation. And all things that arise from generation are subject to corruption. Furthermore, length of time destroys the very form and appearance. In what manner, therefore, could those who have sprung from corruptible generation be immortal? Besides, an opinion of this kind has prevailed among the ignorant multitude, that marriages are customarily contracted among the gods above, and that children are begotten. But if those who are begotten are immortal, and new ones are always being begotten, that race must needs overflow. And with this increase made, what heaven, what earth could contain the swarm of so many gods descending upon it? What shall we say, moreover, about those men who join brother gods with sister goddesses in the bond of matrimony, and charge them with adulteries and obscenities? This also we assert with confidence: that the honours and worship paid to them by men are full of impurity and lust.

Indeed, some most skilled sculptor, after having first conceived in his mind the form of the future work, fashions the work according to the rules of his art, and shortly after, as if forgetful of himself, flatters his own work and worships it as an immortal god, though he himself, the parent and maker of that statue, confesses that he is mortal. Moreover, they themselves point out the tombs and coffins of those immortals, and pay divine honours to the dead, not knowing, evidently, that what is truly blessed and immortal has no need of those honours which they bestow upon mortals. For that which can be perceived by intellect alone and comprehended by thought neither requires a form by which it may be recognized, nor admits a figure as an image and likeness. But all these things are done on account of the dead. For in truth they were men endowed with bodies while they lived.

But why, when I am about to praise the true God, do I defile my tongue with impure words? I have therefore resolved first to wash away that bitter draught by covering it with a pure one. Now a pure drink is drawn from the perennial fount of the virtues of that God whom we celebrate. Indeed I consider it my own private duty to proclaim Christ, both by holiness of life and by the giving of thanks which is owed to him by us for his many and greatest benefits. Him, therefore, I declare to have established the beginnings of this universe, and to have devised the creation of men measured out by a fixed law and reason. And those newly brought into the light he straightway transferred to a certain blessed place, full of flowers and every abundance of fruits, and willed them at first to be ignorant of good and evil.

At length, however, he established on earth a fitting abode for rational animals, and only then opened to them, as beings endowed with reason, the knowledge of good and evil. He also commanded the human race to increase, and that the whole expanse which is bounded by the circuit of the ocean, wholesome and free from disease, should begin to be inhabited. And as the human race thus grew, the arts necessary for the use of this life were discovered. But the brute animals likewise multiplied, since in each kind a certain proper force and virtue was found implanted by nature. In the tame, indeed, a gentle disposition obedient to man; but in the wild, strength and swiftness, and a certain natural providence by which they rescue themselves from dangers. And the care and guardianship of all tame animals God assigned to men, while against the wild he instituted, as it were, a certain contest.

After this he formed the race of birds, numerous in count, but manifold in nature and appearance, endowed with a remarkable variety of colours and a certain natural knowledge of music. The rest likewise of the things contained within the circuit of the whole world, having most beautifully ordered, and having appointed for all things the fated limit of life, he completed the fabric of the universe adorned with all its ornaments.

Yet a great many men, less prudent, attribute the cause of this distinction and adornment of all things to nature; others assign it to fate or to chance, ascribing the power over such things to fate. Nor do they understand that when they name fate, they utter a name indeed, but designate no act and no substance. For what could fate itself be in itself, since nature has brought forth all things?

Or what shall we reckon nature to be, if the law of fate cannot be violated? But also from the fact that it is called a fatal law, since every law is the work of some lawgiver, it is sufficiently apparent that fate itself, if indeed it is a law, is the work and invention of God. All things therefore are subject to God, nor is there anything exempt from his power. Furthermore, we do not at all disapprove of fate being considered and called the will of God. But in what manner do justice, temperance, and the remaining virtues come into being by fate? And whence, on the other hand, do the vices contrary to these, namely injustice and intemperance? For malice is born from the will; but virtue is nothing other than right action with respect to conduct.

Now if things done rightly or wrongly from good or bad intention of soul meet with one outcome or another according as fate or fortune has seen fit, how shall justice and the rendering to each his own come from fate? Furthermore, laws, discourses exhorting to virtue and deterring from vices, praise likewise and blame, punishments too and all the means by which men are recalled from wickedness and incited to virtue—how shall these be said to proceed from fortune and random chance, and not rather from justice, which is the property of God in his providence? For he bestows upon men what they deserve on account of this or that manner of living; with pestilence sometimes breaking in, with sedition, with barrenness; sometimes with abundance of crops following; and all these things, as if with a voice clearly uttered, signifying most plainly that all such things are most fittingly suited to our manner of living. For the divine substance delights in the uprightness of men, but turns away from all impiety.

And just as it embraces a mind that thinks modestly of itself, so it hates audacity and arrogance that exalts itself more highly than befits a mortal creature. The proofs of these things, though they are quite clear and set before our eyes, yet shine forth more plainly whenever, descending into ourselves with mind gathered and as it were collected into itself, we weigh the cause of them. Wherefore we ought to order our life modestly and quietly, and not raise our spirit above the condition of our nature, but reflect that God, the inspector of all our acts, is always present with us. But let us also consider by another argument whether the ordering and arrangement of all things can rightly be said to have come about by random and blind chance.

Do we believe, then, that the stars and heavenly bodies, the earth too and water, and fire and air, the winds and the succession of seasons, the timely returns of summer and winter—do we believe, I say, that all these came about by chance and accident rather than that they were created? Certain men, utterly out of their minds, say that most of these were devised by men for their own use. Granted that, since nature supplies very many resources in abundance, we allow, if you please, that in earthly and corruptible things this opinion is not without reason. What of immortal and immutable things? Are these the inventions of men? Of these and of all other such things, which, removed from our senses, can be comprehended by the intellect alone, the creator is not man, a creature composed of matter, but the intelligible and eternal substance of God.

Moreover, the reason of that ordering is the work of providence; that the day shines bright with the rays of the sun, and when the sun sets night follows, and when it has followed it is not left in utter darkness, on account of the choir of stars. What shall we say now of the moon, which when it has receded farthest from the sun, set opposite to it, is filled to a full orb, but wanes whenever it draws nearer to it? Do not these things declare the intelligence and skill of God?

To these add the seasonable heat of the sun, which imparts ripeness to fruits; the blowing of the winds, which avail greatly for the tempering of the year; the cooling of rains and the admirable harmony by which all these things are governed by a fixed law and reason; and finally that perpetual order of the planets returning at fixed times to the same place—do not these things manifestly testify to the command of God and the perfect obedience of the stars in complying with the divine law? Furthermore, the ridges of mountains, and the hollow recesses of valleys, and the level evenness of widely spreading plains—do these appear to exist without the providence of God?

The sight of these things is not only most pleasing, but their use is also far most delightful. Do not the expanses and divisions of waters and land, partly suited to agriculture, partly for conveying from foreign regions those things of which we are in want, most plainly demonstrate the careful and exact providence of the divine power? For mountains contain water within themselves; and when the plain lying below has received it, and has abundantly refreshed the fields with its irrigation, it pours out what remains into the sea; and the sea transmits it to the ocean. And yet we dare nonetheless to affirm that all these things come about by chance and at random; though we in no way designate what appearance or form chance may be endowed with—a thing which subsists neither in intelligence nor in sense, but is only an empty sound of a name without substance, ringing about our ears.

For in truth "chance" is a word invented by men endowed with no reason or prudence; but those who are unable to attain the cause itself by understanding, owing to the weakness of their mind, suppose that all these things whose reason they cannot render have been arranged without any reason. There are certainly some things endowed with a wonderful nature, of which the sure comprehension of the truth lies hidden in obscurity; such as waters hot by their own nature. For no one could easily state the cause of so great a fire. Yet it is wonderful that that fire, surrounded on all sides by cold water, nevertheless loses none of its native heat. And these things are found very rarely and in very few places throughout the whole world; so that, as I at least judge, the force and power of divine providence may be easily recognized by men, which has ordained that two things most contrary to each other—namely cold and heat—flow from one and the same source.

There are indeed many and nearly innumerable things which God has granted to men for comfort and delight, but chiefly the fruit of the olive and the vine. Of these, the one has the power of refreshing and gladdening the spirits. The other is suited not only to pleasure, but also to the healing of bodies. The continuous and unceasing course of rivers also merits the highest admiration, gliding on day and night, and bearing a certain likeness to perpetual and eternal life. Likewise the continual alternation of night and day is equally wonderful.

And all these things have been said by us so that it may be established that nothing has been made without reason and intelligence, and that reason and providence themselves are the work of God. He indeed also produced the diverse kinds of gold and silver, of bronze and of the remaining metals, in a fitting manner and measure. For those things whose use was to be manifold and varied he commanded to be supplied abundantly; but those which serve only for delight he supplied more sparingly, as a frail and feeble being can accurately attain to only in part.

Luxury, liberally and at the same time sparingly, and in a manner midway between parsimony and lavish profusion. For if the same abundance had been granted of those things which are made for adornment, metalworkers, through excessive greed, would have held in contempt those things useful for agriculture and for the construction of houses and ships—namely bronze and iron—and would have pursued with all eagerness those things pertaining to luxury and the vain and superfluous extravagance of riches. And therefore they say that far more difficulty and labor is found in discovering the mines of gold and silver than in all other things, so that the most vehement labor may be set against the most vehement desire. How many other works of divine providence besides may one enumerate, which in all the things it has lavishly bestowed upon us manifestly impels the life of men toward moderation and the other virtues, and draws them away from troublesome desires. To investigate the reason of all these things is something greater than can be accomplished by man.

For in what manner can a mortal understanding grasp it? In what way can one comprehend the will of God from the beginning?

Wherefore we ought to undertake those things which can be done and which do not exceed the measure of our nature. For the probability that is found in dialogues and disputations is wont to lead most of us away from the truth. This indeed has befallen many philosophers, while they exercise their intellect in discoursing and in investigating the nature of things. For whenever the greatness of miracles far surpasses their inquiry, they wrap the truth in various modes of argumentation. Hence it comes about that they hold contrary opinions, and one attacks the dogmas of another; and this while they wish to appear wise. From which have arisen the gravest commotions among peoples, and the harsh justice of rulers against them, while men think that the customs and institutions of their ancestors are being overturned by them. And very often their destruction has followed from this. Socrates certainly, elated by his skill in disputation, since he made the weaker arguments stronger and continually played at contradiction, was slain by the envy of his fellow-tribesmen and citizens.

But also Pythagoras, who professed above all others to pursue temperance and silence, was convicted of falsehood. For those things which he had himself once received as predictions from the prophets, while he was sojourning in Egypt, he proclaimed to the Italians as though privately revealed to him by God. Plato finally, who surpassed all others in gentleness of character, and who first drew the minds of men away from the senses toward things intelligible and ever remaining in the same state, and accustomed them to lift their eyes to sublime things, taught first that God is above all substance; rightly indeed. He placed a second beneath him, and distinguished two substances by number; whereas the perfection of both is one, and the substance of the second God proceeds from the first God. For this one is the Maker and Ruler of all things, and accordingly transcends all things. But that one who is second to him, serving his commands, refers the constitution of all things back to him as to their cause.

And so, according to the most precise method of philosophizing, there would be one who bears care for all things and who provides for all; namely God the Word, by whom all things have been adorned. Who, since he is truly God, is also the Son of God. For what other name besides the appellation of Son could anyone impose upon him without at the same time binding himself in the greatest impiety? Indeed he who is the Father of all is rightly also considered the Father of his own Word. And thus far Plato has thought rightly. But in what follows he is found to have strayed far from the truth, in that he introduces many gods and assigns different forms to each. Which indeed furnished an occasion for still greater error to unlearned men, who by no means contemplate the providence of the supreme God himself, but venerate images fashioned by themselves after the likeness of men and certain animals.

And so it came about that an excellent intellect, and a doctrine most worthy of universal praise, being mingled and entangled with errors of this kind, was less pure and sincere. Furthermore, he seems to me to correct that discourse while reproving himself, when he expressly affirms that the rational soul is the spirit of God. For he distributes all things into two kinds: namely the intelligible and the sensible, of which the former is simple and uncompounded, the latter is formed from the composition of bodies. And the former is perceived by the intellect, the latter is comprehended by opinion joined with sense. And so the former, partaking of the divine spirit, inasmuch as it is separated from all concretion and matter, is eternal and possesses everlasting life. But that which is sensible, since it is dissolved by the very same principle by which it had previously been compacted, is without everlasting life.

But what he afterwards teaches is altogether worthy of admiration: that those who have lived rightly, that is, the souls of good and holy men, as soon as they have departed from the body, are consecrated in the most beautiful regions of heaven. Which things are not only worthy of admiration, but are also of the greatest utility. For who, giving credence to his words and expecting such felicity, would not order his life in the best manner, and pursue justice and temperance, and turn away from wickedness? He also consequently adds to these things that the souls of wicked men, tossed by the waves of Acheron and Pyriphlegethon, are carried here and there like the remnants of a shipwreck.

Yet there are some so mentally captive and corrupt that, when they have read these things, they neither care nor are struck with any fear, but, just as if they were hearing certain fables, they scorn and mock them. And indeed they follow the elegance and richness of the discourse with praises, but they turn away from the severity of the dogmas. These same men, however, give credence to the fables of the poets, and fill all of Greece and the barbarian world with vain and fictitious tales. For the poets say that certain sons of the gods judge souls after death, and appoint them as it were inspectors and censors among the dead, celebrating their judgments and severity. These same poets also recount the battles of the gods, and certain laws of war among them. They also sing of their fates. And they affirm that some of them are harsh by nature; others are altogether removed from any care of human affairs; and some among them are morose.

Indeed they even introduce gods lamenting the slaughter of their sons; since they are able to bring aid not only to strangers but not even to their own. But they also portray them as subject to human passions, while they narrate their battles and wounds, their joys and lamentations as well. When they say these things, they seem worthy of belief. For since they set about composing verses impelled by a certain divine impulse, it is fitting that we give credence to them in those things which they pronounce inspired by the divine spirit. But they also recount the calamities of gods and daemons. Certainly their calamities are altogether consistent with the truth. But someone will say that poets are permitted to lie: for it is the property of poetry to soothe the minds of its hearers, whereas truth exists whenever the things that are said are not otherwise than as they are said to be. Let this be the property of poetry, to conceal the truth at times. But those who lie never do so idly and without cause.

For they lie either for the sake of gain and greed, or being conscious of some crime; they conceal the truth out of fear of the danger which the laws threaten them with. But those who by nature speak beyond the truth should abstain from impious falsehood.

Furthermore, whoever is unworthy of the best manner of living and of discipline, and is himself conscious of a life passed badly and wickedly, let him at last come to his senses, and with the eye of his mind purified, look up to the divine majesty, detesting his former way of life. Yet he ought to be content if even at an advanced age he attains wisdom. But for us, no perfect doctrine from men has ever been of any assistance. Yet whatever things in the life and conduct of men merit praise in the judgment of the wise, these are the gifts and bounties of God. Moreover, against those poisoned darts which are fashioned by the evil demon, I have no weak shield to oppose; namely, the knowledge of those things which are acceptable to God. From which knowledge and discipline, selecting those things which are suited to the present discourse, I shall undertake to praise the supreme parent of all.

Do thou, favouring the purpose of our devotion, be present, O Christ, Saviour of all, and adorn this discourse instituted concerning thy power, prescribing for us the manner and method of praise. Let no one suppose he is about to hear a speech adorned with some extraordinary elegance of words. For I know well that a speech which is soft and composed for pleasure and allurement displeases prudent men, since he who speaks pursues applause rather than a modest manner of discourse. Certain impious and senseless men say that our Christ was justly condemned to punishment, and that he who is the author of life was deprived of life among the living. And indeed it is not at all surprising that those who have once dismissed piety and have resolved to be affected by no fear or shame for their crimes should think thus. But what surpasses all madness is that they seem to have persuaded themselves that the immortal God suffered violence from men, and not rather from his own goodness and benevolence toward men.

Nor do they perceive that greatness of soul and patience is neither changed by insult nor dislodged from its station by reproaches, but breaks the fury of those who attack it with hostility by counsel and loftiness of mind. Divine clemency had indeed resolved to remove injustice from the midst; and to advance modesty and equity. And therefore, gathering together the wisest of men, it established a most beautiful and most useful doctrine for the human race, so that good and blessed men might emulate its providence in administering the affairs of this world. Than which good, what greater can be named, when God prescribes the laws of justice and makes those who have merited to be his disciples like unto himself, so that, virtue being handed down and spread among all, everlasting happiness might be secured for men? This is the glorious victory; this the true power; this the greatest work and most fitting to God, namely the correction of all peoples and their conversion to a better course.

And we indeed offer the glory of this triumph, with praises and acclamations, to thee, O Saviour of all. But thou, O wicked and detestable blasphemy, which art wont to be borne aloft and to glory in lies and in widely circulated reports, thou, I say, deceivest the young; thou leadest astray with flattering persuasion youths and men endowed with a somewhat childish disposition, drawing them away from the worship of the true divinity, and setting up idols for them to adore and to address with prayers; so that the deceived receive the reward of their own folly. For they slander Christ, the author of all good things, who is both God and the Son of God. Is not this God, I ask, rightly and deservedly worshipped by the most modest and wisest nations and peoples? Who, though he has obtained all power, ever steadfast in his purpose, has diminished nothing of the clemency innate in him.

Depart therefore, ye impious—for this is permitted you, since no punishment is now inflicted for your wickedness—depart, I say, to the slaughter of victims and to banquets, and to feast days and drinking bouts. In which, under the guise of religion, you indulge in pleasures and intemperance. And you pretend indeed to celebrate sacred rites, but in truth you satisfy your lusts. For you know nothing of good; not even the first commandment of the supreme God, who both prescribes laws of living for the human race and gave commandment to his Son to form the life and conduct of men; so that those who have lived rightly and modestly might by the judgment of his Son attain another life, blessed and happy. I have set forth the decree of God concerning the life of men, and this not going astray through ignorance, as many do, nor led by opinion or conjecture.

But perhaps someone will say: Whence comes this appellation of Son, or what is the manner of begetting, seeing that God is one and alone, and altogether removed from all mingling and union? It must be known, however, that there is a twofold manner of begetting: one from birth, which is known to all; the other from an eternal cause. The mode and manner of which generation, with divine providence favouring, he among men sees who shall have been dear to God. For any wise man understands the cause of the ordering of the universe. Furthermore, since there is nothing that has not a cause, it is necessary that before all things which exist, the cause of them should have subsisted. Since therefore the world and all things that are in the world exist, and since their preservation exists, it is necessary that before all things that are, the Saviour should have existed.

So that Christ himself is the cause of all things, and preservation is the effect, just as the Father is the cause of the Son, and the Son is the caused. And that Christ himself existed before all things we have already abundantly proved. But how did he descend to earth and come to men? The design itself, as the prophets had foretold, proceeded from the care and solicitude which he bore for all things. For the Maker must needs take care of his works. But when he was about to approach a terrestrial body and to sojourn for a time among men, as necessity required, he devised for himself a new manner of birth. For the conception was without wedlock, and the childbirth of chaste virginity; and a maiden was the mother of God; and the temporal beginning of an eternal nature; and the sense of an intelligible substance; and in the material of corporeal splendour. All things therefore which were then seen were consistent with these.

A most resplendent dove, flying down from the ark of Noah, descended into the bosom of the Virgin. Consistent likewise are the remaining things which followed upon that undefiled union, purer than all chastity and surpassing even continence itself. The Wisdom of God, wondrous from his very cradle, and the Jordan, offering its waters for Baptism, receiving him with reverence. Moreover, the royal anointing joined with the knowledge of all things. Likewise the teaching and power which wrought wondrous deeds and healed incurable diseases. And finally the marvellous swiftness in hearing the prayers of men. And in general his whole life serving the benefit of men. The preaching which instilled not prudence but wisdom; teaching the hearers not civic virtues but the way that leads to the intelligible world; and to those who by constant exercise were searching out the contemplation of that nature which always remains in one and the same state, and the knowledge of the supreme Father. Already the benefits were by no means slight.

In place of blindness, sight; in place of the dissolution of strength and sinews, firm health of body; in place of death, life restored again. I pass over the necessities of sustenance abundantly supplied in the wilderness, and the smallest quantities of food sufficing for a very great multitude of men over a long period of time. This act of thanksgiving we render to thee, as best we can, O Christ, God and Saviour, the supreme Providence of the great Father, who both freest from evils and impartest the most blessed doctrine. For these things are not said by me to celebrate thy praises, but to give thanks. For who among men has ever praised thee according to thy worth? For thou it is who art said to have created things from nothing, and to have kindled light for them, and to have distinguished the confused mass of the elements with order and reason.

This is the special gift of thy clemency, that thou hast rendered men endowed with good natural disposition emulators of the divine and blessed life, and hast provided that those, having become merchants of the best things, might impart their wisdom and happiness to many others, and might themselves receive the immortal fruit of virtue; freed indeed from intemperance, yet partakers of clemency: and keeping mercy before their eyes, yet hoping for the promises of faith; and embracing modesty and every kind of virtue, in place of the injustice which the former life of mortals had infused into human conduct, so that it might be rooted out by him who bears the care and providence of all things. For no other physician adequate to such great evils and to the injustice which had prevailed in that age could have been found. Therefore providence, reaching even to the earth, restored without difficulty all things that had been disordered through insult and intemperance, and this not secretly and in hiding.

For it knew that there were some men who would contemplate its virtue and power with the eye of the mind, while others, being very like brute animals, cleave more to the senses. Therefore openly and manifestly, lest anyone, whether good or wicked, might be able to doubt, it set before the eyes of all blessedness and the wondrous healing of all: restoring life anew to the dead, and commanding those who had been deprived of their senses to recover the former use of their senses. Moreover, to have made the sea solid, and to have commanded calm to arise in the midst of a storm; and finally, after having performed wondrous works and led men from unbelief to the most robust faith, to have soared up into heaven—whose work was this at last, if not God's and of some supreme power? But neither was that time which was nearest to the Passion without those wondrous spectacles; when the darkness of night, obscuring the light of day, hid the sun entirely.

For terror had pervaded all peoples everywhere, believing that the end of the world had now come, and that all things would return to the primeval chaos such as existed before the world was founded. The cause of so great a calamity was sought, and what so great a crime had been committed by men against the divine majesty. Until God, with placid greatness of soul despising the insults of the impious, had restored all things, and adorned the whole heaven with the accustomed course of the stars. And so the face of the whole world, which had been as it were confounded with grief and mourning, recovered its former splendour once more.

But someone among those who are accustomed to speak impiously will say that God could have made the will of men better and more tractable. What better way, I ask, what more effective means for correcting wicked men, than that God himself should address them face to face? Did he not, being present and set before the sight of all, instruct them in modesty? But if the command of God present availed nothing, what could the command of one absent and unheard have availed? What then was the obstacle to that most blessed preaching? The ferocity and savagery of men. For as often as we receive with hostile spirit those things which have been rightly and usefully commanded, the keenness of our mind is obscured as if by certain shadows. What of the fact that it was a pleasure to them to disregard the commandments, and to offer disdainful ears to the law that was being set forth?

For had they not disregarded them, they would surely have received a reward worthy of their hearing, not in this life only, but also in the life to come; which is truly to be reckoned as life. For the reward of those who have obeyed the commandments of God is immortal and eternal life. To this they alone can aspire who have known God; and who have set forth their own life as a kind of perpetual pattern for imitation to those who have resolved to form their life after the example of every best man. For this reason doctrine has been handed down to the wise, so that what these have commanded may be diligently kept by their companions with a pure mind, and thus a sincere and firm observance of the divine commandment may endure. For from such observance, and from inviolate faith and sincere piety toward God, is born contempt of death. Such a spirit therefore stands firm against the storms of the world, fortified with the unconquered strength of divine virtue unto martyrdom.

And when it has nobly overcome the most grievous terrors, it is crowned by him to whom it has steadfastly borne witness. Yet it does not glory on that account. For it knows that it is the gift of God, both that it has endured torments and that it has eagerly fulfilled the divine commandments. Moreover, such a life is followed by immortal memory and everlasting glory; and rightly so. For the life of the martyr is found to be full of modesty and devout observance of the divine commandments, and his death full of fortitude and noble character. Accordingly, hymns and psalms and praises are thereafter sung to God the overseer of all things. And a certain sacrifice of thanksgiving of this kind is performed in memory of them, which is free from all blood and violence. Neither is the odor of incense required, nor a kindled pyre, but only pure light, as much as may suffice to illuminate those who pray to God.

Sober feasts also are celebrated by many, both to relieve the want of the poor and of those who have been stripped of their homeland and goods. If anyone should consider these things burdensome, he seems to think contrary to the divine and most sacred discipline.

But some with youthful audacity presume even in this to reproach God. For what reason, they say, did he not fashion one and the same nature and character for all, but willed that many should be born endowed with diverse and even contrary characters? From this arose the dissimilarity of manners and wills among men. It would perhaps have been better, as regards the observance of the commandments of God, and the careful contemplation of him, and the confirmation of the faith of individuals, that all men had been of one and the same character. But it is plainly absurd and ridiculous to wish that all men should be endowed with the same manners; and not to observe that the ordering of the whole world is one thing, and the ordering of those things which are in the world is another; and that natural things are not of the same substance as moral things; and that the affections of the body are not the same as the affections of the soul.

For the rational soul surpasses this whole universe by a great interval; so much more blessed than earthly and corruptible living beings, as the race of men is more august and divine, and a partaker of divine goodness. Yet not all men indiscriminately and without any distinction are partakers of divine goodness, but those alone who, having examined the divine nature, have set before themselves as their chief purpose and pursuit in life the knowledge of divine things.

Furthermore, to compare things that have come into being with eternal things is surely the height of madness. For these have neither beginning nor end. But those, since they have come into being and been generated, and have received a beginning of existing and living at a fixed time, must also have an end. But how can things that have been generated ever be compared with him who commanded them to be generated? For if these are equal to him, the command by which he ordered them to be generated could not fittingly belong to him. But not even heavenly things are rightly compared with him; just as neither is the sensible world with the intelligible; nor images with the archetype. But is not the confusion and mingling of all things utterly ridiculous, when the dignity of the divine nature is obscured, if men and beasts are compared with God?

And is not the desire for power that would rival and equal the divine power the mark of men utterly out of their minds, and estranged from a modest and upright manner of living? For if indeed we aspire at all to divine blessedness, we ought to order our life according to the commandments of God. For thus, after we have lived according to the law established by God, superior to fate, we shall pass our age in immortal and eternal abodes. For this alone is the power in man equal to the divine power: sincere and wholly unfeigned worship of God; and turning toward him; and the contemplation and meditation of those things that are acceptable to God; and not to be prone and cast down toward the earth: but to raise our mind, as far as may be, toward things sublime and heavenly. For from such pursuit victory is won for us, in the likeness of many goods. The reason of the distance, therefore, being set forth, has this account.

To which all who are wise willingly assent and give the greatest thanks. But fools, showing themselves ungrateful, bear the punishment due to their arrogance.

Furthermore, the Son of God exhorts all men to virtue, presenting himself to the wise as a teacher of the Father's commandments. Unless perhaps through the height of folly we are ignorant that he, for the sake of our benefit, that is, for the happiness of all, traversed the earth; and having called to himself the best men of that time, delivered a most useful teaching, as a kind of remedy for a modest life, instructing them in faith and justice, against the envy of the hostile demon, who is accustomed to entice and deceive the unlearned and ignorant. He therefore visited the sick; and relieved the infirm of the evils by which they were oppressed. He also provided comfort for those who had been reduced to the utmost poverty and want.

Likewise he especially praised modesty and civility of mind joined with reason, and commanded that we bear every injury and insult with a brave and patient spirit, teaching us that such is the visitation of his Father, so that those who endure all misfortunes nobly always carry off the victory. For he affirmed this to be the highest strength; constancy of mind joined with philosophy, which is nothing other than the knowledge of truth and goodness, accustoming men who possess wealth acquired by honorable arts to share it generously with the poor. He utterly forbids domination; openly declaring that, just as he came to aid the humble, so also he would cease to show favor to those who despise the humble. Having therefore tested the faithfulness of the peoples subject to him by such a trial, he made them not only despisers of the most grievous and fearful things, but also genuine disciples of hope and trust in him. Indeed he also rebuked with words and restrained one of his companions who had blazed up too violently with anger.

That man had at that moment drawn his sword against someone, in order to bring aid to the Savior. But the Savior commanded him to be still and to put down the sword, sternly rebuking the man because he had distrusted his own protection and patronage. And he expressly laid down this law: that whoever had set out to strike another, or whoever had attempted to harm one who was striking, and generally whoever made use of the sword, would perish by a violent death. This is truly heavenly wisdom: to prefer to suffer injury rather than to inflict it, and whenever necessity demands, to be of such a mind that we receive harm rather than inflict it. For since to do injury is the greatest evil, not he who suffers but rather he who does the injury is afflicted with the gravest punishment.

Moreover, for one who is subject to God, it is possible neither to do injury nor to suffer it, provided he trusts in the protection of God, who is present with him and brings aid, so that none of those who obey him may be afflicted with any harm. But how would he attempt to help himself? For the battle would be between two, and the victory doubtful and uncertain. Yet no one of sound mind ever prefers uncertain things to certain ones. But in what way would he who has experienced so many dangers, and who has always escaped most easily from all perils by the sole nod of God, doubt the presence and aid of God; he who walked through the sea which, at the Savior's command, had been made firm and offered a solid path to the peoples passing through? For this is, I think, the most certain and most firm foundation of faith; this is the foundation of trust, when we see these wonderful and incredible things accomplished by the command of God's providence.

Hence it also comes about that when someone falls into the danger of calamity, he by no means repents of his faith, and retains a hope in God that is firm and unshaken. Which disposition, once it has taken hold in the soul, means that God has his seat in the inner thought. And since he is unconquerable, that soul too which possesses the unconquerable one in its inner thought can never be overcome by onrushing dangers. Moreover we have learned this very thing from God's victory: he who, having embraced all men in his providence, when he had been treated contemptuously by the impious and unjust, having received no harm from his suffering, obtained the greatest triumph and an immortal crown by conquering wickedness: inasmuch as he both brought to completion the purpose of his providence and benevolence toward the just, and trampled underfoot the cruelty of impious and unjust men.

Moreover, his passion had long since been foretold by the prophets, as had his bodily birth. The very time of the incarnation had also been foretold, at which the sprung-up seeds of injustice and intemperance, which harm just acts and morals, would be removed from the midst; and that the whole world would become a partaker of prudence and modesty, with the law promulgated by the Savior prevailing in the minds of nearly all mortals, and the worship of the divine majesty confirmed, while the superstition of demons was destroyed. Which superstition had introduced not only the slaughter of brute animals, but also of human bodies, and the wicked expiations of altars; inasmuch as, according to the laws of the Assyrians and Egyptians, innocent men were sacrificed to bronze and earthen idols. Whence also they received a reward worthy of such religion. Memphis, it says, and Babylon shall be laid waste; and both shall be left desolate together with their ancestral gods.

And these things I recount not from hearsay, but as things which I myself have seen in person, having become a witness of the pitiable fate of these cities. Memphis lies desolate, that seat of the once most powerful king Pharaoh, whom Moses, lifted up by pride, struck at God's command, and destroyed his army, the conqueror of many and great nations, well equipped and fortified with arms; not by the missiles of weapons and javelins, but by pure prayer alone and quiet supplication.

Moreover, no people was ever more blessed than that one, nor would any be, had they not withdrawn their minds from the divine spirit. But who is there who can praise Moses according to his merit? He who had reduced the previously disordered multitude of the Jews into fixed orders, and had adorned their spirits with obedience and reverence, restored to them liberty in place of servitude, and gladness in place of sorrow. He who so greatly lifted up their spirits that, on account of the unexpected change of their affairs for the better, and on account of their prosperous successes and victories, they were puffed up with a certain pride and insolence. He who surpassed in wisdom all the rest who had preceded him in age to such a degree, that those who are most celebrated among the gentiles, whether as wise men or as philosophers, proved to be imitators of his wisdom.

Pythagoras certainly, emulating his wisdom, was celebrated so greatly for his modesty that Plato, a most modest man, set forth his abstinence as an example for himself to imitate. Daniel also, he who foretold things to come, and who gave proof of a spirit of the highest and greatest magnitude, and who excelled in the holiness of his character and of his whole life—what manner of harsh cruelty did he overcome, and how harsh was it, of that tyrant who then held dominion in Syria? His name was Nebuchadnezzar; with whose entire lineage utterly destroyed, that great and formidable power was transferred to the Persians. On the lips of all men, as they are celebrated to this very day in the conversations of many, were the riches of that king; and his troublesome zeal concerning illicit religion, and his vast supply of metals of every kind for fashioning images of the gods; likewise the rooftops of temples touching the very sky, so to speak, and finally the fearsome laws of religion devised for cruelty.

But Daniel, despising all these things on account of his sincere piety toward God, foretold that that troublesome zeal of the tyrant would be the cause of some very great evil. Yet he did not persuade the tyrant. For an abundance of riches is the greatest impediment to right thinking. At length, however, the king declared the savagery of his mind, ordering that a just and innocent man be thrown to wild beasts to be torn apart. Likewise the noble agreement of those brothers in undergoing martyrdom was foremost. Those whom posterity thereafter imitated gained immense glory on account of their faith toward the Savior. They, harmed in no way by fire and furnace and the other torments prepared to consume their bodies, drove back the flames enclosed on all sides in the furnace by the interposition and contact of their chaste bodies. Furthermore, when the empire of the Assyrians had been cut down by God's vengeance and the hurling of thunderbolts, Daniel by divine providence betook himself to Cambyses, king of the Persians.

But he too was vexed by envy; and by the deadly plots of the Magi; and by a continuous succession of many and great dangers. From all of these, freed most easily with the aid of Christ's providence, he shone forth distinguished in every kind of virtue. For when he poured out prayers to God three times daily, and performed great and extraordinary miracles of memorable works, the Magi, led by envy, began to slander this efficacy of prayer, whispering into the king's ears that so great a power of the man was exceedingly dangerous; and at length they persuaded him that the man who had been the author of so many and so great benefits to the Persian commonwealth should be thrown to savage lions to be devoured. Daniel therefore, condemned not to perish but to eternal glory, was cast into the den. And when he was in the midst of the wild beasts, he found them gentler and more tame than those by whom he had been thrust into the den.

For prayer, bringing the aid of modesty and temperance, tamed all those beasts, though by their own nature savage. When Cambyses learned of this—for it could not be that such stupendous miracles of divine power should be concealed—he was struck with wonder at the things that had been reported; and repentance came upon him that he had lent so ready an ear to the slanders of the Magi. Nevertheless he himself wished to be a witness of the matter. And when he had seen Daniel with hands raised on high praising Christ, and the lions bowed down and in some manner adoring the man's footsteps, he immediately ordered the Magi who had persuaded him of that thing to be thrown to the lions. But the beasts, which a little before had been caressing Daniel, immediately attacked the Magi and tore them all apart in accordance with their savage nature.

It is pleasing also to recall another testimony concerning the divinity of Christ drawn from outsiders. For in this way those who are accustomed to assail him with reproaches and curses will recognize that he is God and the Son of God, if indeed they are willing to give credence to the words of their own people. The Erythraean Sibyl, therefore, who says she lived in the sixth age after the flood, was a priestess of Apollo; who, wearing a crown upon her head no differently than that god whom she worshipped, and guarding the tripod around which a serpent was coiled, delivered oracles to those who inquired, having been given over to this cult by foolish parents, from which nothing honorable and upright is engendered, but only a frenzy devoid of shame. Such are the things that are recorded concerning Daphne.

This woman, therefore, when she had at some point rushed into the inner shrine of that troublesome superstition, impelled plainly by the divine Spirit, began to prophesy in verse all things that were to come concerning God, declaring most openly in the first letters of the verses—which kind is called an acrostic—the history of the coming of Jesus Christ. The acrostic is of this kind: Jesus Christ, Son of God, SAVIOR, CROSS. The verses are these:

The sign of judgment: the earth shall be wet with sweat.
Then from heaven shall come the king who shall reign through ages to come,
Namely to judge the whole world that now is present.
Both the faithless and the faithful shall behold God,
Exalted in human flesh, and surrounded by a holy throng,
Who at the completion of time shall judge all.
Then the dreadful earth shall grow wild with sharp thorns.
Men shall cast away images and the metals of gold.
The shades in squalor shall burst open the gates of hell with a sudden assault
And shall enjoy the pure light.
Then flame, as judge, shall prove the foul and the good.
Every hidden crime that each has committed shall be spoken aloud;
And the secret recesses of the human breast shall be laid open.
There shall be gnashing of teeth, and groaning and mourning everywhere.
And the sun and the choir of stars shall cease
Together to run their course through the sky, and the light of the moon shall perish.

From the depths the valleys will be seen to rise from below. Nothing lofty will be permitted to behold on earth. And the broad plain will level the mountains, and the sea Will stand untouched by ship, and the earth scorched by lightning. One burning river will fail together with its springs. The shrill trumpet from heaven will pour forth a mournful song, Lamenting the final destruction and the fates of the world. And suddenly the Stygian chaos will appear with gaping maw; All kings will stand before the divine tribunal; And a wave of sulphurous flame will descend from the sky; And all men on earth will then behold with their eyes a wondrous sign, A sign desirable to the holy. For all the just it is the beginning of a better life; Again the grief and offence of a raving world, Illuminating with waters the faithful in a twelvefold spring. The iron rod of the shepherd will reign far and wide. One and eternal God, this same Saviour and Christ, who suffered for us, whom the verses signify.

And these things were foretold by the virgin, as is credible, by divine inspiration. I indeed count her blessed for this reason, that God chose her as a prophetess and messenger of His providence toward us.

Many, however, withhold credence from this prophecy, although they acknowledge that the Erythraean Sibyl was truly a prophetess. They suspect that those verses were composed by some person of our religion not unacquainted with the poetic art, and falsely ascribed under a spurious and counterfeit title to the Sibyl; since they contain sentiments very useful to human life, by which both the unbridled license of pleasures is restrained, and the way is prepared toward modesty and temperance. But the truth itself is plain to all; since the diligence of our people has gathered the sequence of times so accurately that no one can now suspect that poem to have been composed after the coming and condemnation of Christ, and to be falsely circulated as though the Sibyl had long before poured forth these verses in prophecy. For it is agreed among all that Cicero, having read this poem, translated it into the Latin tongue and inserted it into his own works. Antony, who afterwards obtained supreme power, killed him.

Antony was thereafter defeated by Augustus, who held the empire for fifty-six years. Tiberius then succeeded him; at which time the coming of the Saviour shed its light upon the world, and the mystery of the most holy religion began to flourish, and a certain new offspring and succession of a people was established; concerning which the foremost of Latin poets seems to me to have had a perception, when he says:

Now a new progeny is sent down from high heaven.
And again in another place of the Bucolics:
Sicilian Muses, let us sing of somewhat greater things.

What could be plainer than this? For he adds:

The last age of the Cumaean song is now come.

Meaning, of course, the Cumaean Sibyl. Nor content with these words, he went further, as though necessity itself demanded her testimony. What then does he say?

The great order of the ages is born anew from the beginning:
Now the Virgin returns; the Saturnian kingdoms return.

Who then is that Virgin who returns? Is it not she who was full and heavy with the Holy Spirit? And what prevents her who is with child by the divine Spirit from remaining always a maiden and a virgin? The longed-for king also will return and will lift up the world by his coming. For thus the poet adds:

Do thou only, chaste Lucina, favour the newborn boy, by whom
The iron age will first cease, and a golden race will rise throughout the whole world.
Under this leader, if any traces of our guilt remain,
Rendered void, they shall free the lands from perpetual dread.

We understand that these things are spoken both openly and obscurely through allegory. For to those who search more deeply into the force and meaning of the verses, they set before the eyes, as it were, the divinity of Christ. But lest any of the leading men of the royal city might accuse the poet of having dared to write against the laws of his country, and of overturning the opinions concerning the gods handed down of old by their ancestors, he deliberately conceals the truth. For he marks, as I at least judge, the blessed and saving mystery of our Saviour. And so, in order to avoid the savage cruelty of men, he led the minds of his hearers back to the custom ingrained in them; and says that altars and temples are to be built for the newborn child, and sacrifices to be performed. He added other things in keeping with this; in favour of those who thought thus, for he says:

He shall receive the life of the gods, and shall see
Heroes mingled with gods, and shall himself be seen by them:
By the just, that is to say.

And shall rule a world made peaceful by his father's virtues.
But for thee, O boy, the earth untilled shall first pour forth
As little gifts the wandering ivy everywhere with baccar,
And colocasia mingled with the smiling acanthus.

Moreover, that admirable man, cultivated in every kind of learning, since he was acquainted with the cruelty of those times, added these words:

The she-goats themselves shall bring home their udders swollen with milk,
Nor shall the herds fear the great lions.

Speaking truly indeed. For the faith was not going to dread the grandees of the palace.

Thy very cradle shall pour forth for thee gentle flowers,
The serpent too shall die, and the deceitful plant of poison
Shall die; Assyrian amomum shall spring up everywhere.

Than which nothing truer, nothing more fitting to the power of the Saviour can be said. For the very cradle of God, the force of the divine spirit, offered as it were most fragrant flowers to the newborn people. The serpent died, and the venom of the serpent was taken away: that serpent, namely, who first led the first human beings into deceit and drew their souls from their innate temperance toward the enticements of pleasures, so that they might not at all perceive the evil that hung over their heads. For before the coming of our Saviour upon earth, that serpent had overthrown the minds of men, blinded by ignorance of the immortal life of the just and sustained by no hope of good things.

But after the passion of our Lord, when that body which He had taken was for a time separated from the fellowship of the most holy soul, the faith of the resurrection was made manifest to men: and if any stain of human sins remained, it was utterly washed away by the most sacred laver. Then at last Christ bids His subjects be of good cheer, and to hope for like things from His venerable and glorious resurrection. Rightly therefore was it said that every kind of venerated thing has died. Death itself also died; and the resurrection was confirmed. The race of the Assyrians also died, who had been the foremost leaders and authors of faith in God. But when he says that amomum will spring up everywhere, he thus designates the multitude of Christians. Which, not otherwise than innumerable branches adorned with most lovely flowers and watered by a gentle dew, springs up from one root.

Learnedly therefore have you spoken these things, O Maro, wisest of poets. But the rest also agrees with these;

But as soon as you shall be able to read the praises of heroes and the deeds of your father,
And to know what virtue is.

By the praises of heroes he understands the works of just men; by the virtues of the father, the constitution of the world and the construction that shall endure perpetually. Perhaps he also understands the laws which the Church, beloved of God, employs, ordering life by the precepts of justice and temperance. Worthy of admiration also is the advancement to higher things of the life of men who stand at a certain middle degree between the good and the wicked, even though a life of this kind does not admit of sudden change.

The field will gradually grow golden with the soft ear of grain.

That is, the fruit of the divine law will be brought forth for the benefit of men.

And the blushing grape will hang upon untended brambles.

Which things were by no means to be seen in the unjust and depraved life of men.

And the hard oaks will sweat dewy honey.

He designates the stupor and hardness of mind of the men of that age. And perhaps he also hints that those who have endured labors for God's sake will reap the sweet fruit of their endurance:

Yet a few traces of ancient deceit will remain:
Which will bid men tempt Thetis with ships, gird towns with walls,
And cleave furrows in the earth.
There will then be another Tiphys, and another Argo to carry
Chosen heroes; there will also be other wars,
And great Achilles will again be sent to Troy.

Rightly, most wise of poets. You have carried poetic license as far as was fitting. For it was not your purpose to utter oracles, since you were not a prophet. There was also, I believe, the present danger that threatened the heads of those who might wish to refute the ceremonies established by their ancestors. And so, setting forth the truth as safely and prudently as could be done for those with understanding, while attributing the matter to towers and wars which are still to be seen in human life, he describes the Saviour setting forth to the Trojan war. By Troy, however, he understands the whole world. For Christ waged war against the opposing forces of the most wicked demons, sent to earth partly by the counsel of his own providence, partly by the command of the supreme Father. But what does the same poet say next?

Then, when age confirmed shall have made you a man.

That is, after you have entered upon manhood and removed all the evils that afflict human life, and have ordered the whole world under the laws of peace.

The sailor too will withdraw from the sea, nor will the pine vessel
Exchange its wares: every land will bear all things.
The ground will suffer no harrows, the vine no pruning-hook,
Nor will the wool learn to counterfeit various colors.
But of himself the ram in the meadows will now change his fleece
To sweetly blushing purple, now to saffron yellow.
Of its own accord vermilion will clothe the grazing lambs.
Advance, O advance to great honors; the time will soon be here,
Dear offspring of the gods, great increase of Jove.
Behold the world nodding with its vaulted weight,
And the lands and the tracts of the sea and the deep heaven.
Behold how all things rejoice at the age to come.
O may the last part of a long life remain for me,
And breath enough to tell your deeds;
Not Thracian Orpheus will surpass me in song, nor Linus,
Though his mother aid the one and his father the other.
Even Pan, if he should contend with me before an Arcadian judge,
Even Pan would say, before an Arcadian judge, that he was defeated.

Behold, he says, the rejoicing of the changing world and of all the elements.

Perhaps someone from among those who are less endowed with understanding will suppose that these things are spoken of the birth of a man. But what reason is there that, when a son of man is brought into the light, the earth should require neither plough nor sowing, nor the vine the pruning-hook and the rest of its cultivation? How are these things to be understood as spoken of human offspring? For nature is the servant of the divine will, not subject to human commands. Add to this that the rejoicing of all the elements designates the coming of God, not the conception of any man. Furthermore, the fact that the poet prays for a longer prolongation of his own life is plainly the argument of one invoking God. For we are accustomed to ask life and salvation for ourselves from God, not from man.

And indeed the Erythraean Sibyl addresses God thus: Why, she says, O Lord, do you lay upon me the necessity of prophesying, and do you not rather take me up and carry me away from the earth, and keep me until the day of your most blessed coming? But Virgil, after the verses which we have cited above, adds these:

Begin, little boy, to recognize your mother with a smile.
Ten months have brought long weariness to your mother.
Begin, little boy; he upon whom his parents have not smiled,
No god has honored with his table, nor goddess with her bed.

For how should his parents have smiled upon him? For his father, God, is a power devoid of quality. And he himself is without any form, yet exists in the circumscription of others; nor is he endowed with a human body. And who does not know that the divine Spirit is also without experience of the marriage-bed? For what desire, what longing could exist in the disposition of the supreme good, by desire of which all other things are led? What can wisdom possibly have in common with pleasure? But let those speak thus who fashion for themselves some human generation of Christ, and take no care to keep their mind free from every impious deed and word. You, O piety, I here invoke; your aid I implore for the things that are being said: you who are nothing other than the law of chastity and holiness, the most desirable of all good things, the teacher of most holy hope, the sure promise of immortality. I reverence you, O piety and clemency.

To you we owe thanks for the benefit of your healing of which we stood in need. But the common mass of men, destitute of your aid, through the innate hatred with which they burn against you, turn away from God himself and do not understand that the cause of their own life and of the life of the rest of the impious depends upon the worship and service of the divine Power. For the whole world and whatsoever is contained in the world is his possession.

Indeed I ascribe my good fortune and all that is mine to piety. The outcomes of events, which have answered my prayers, are witnesses; the battles and victories and trophies won from enemies are witnesses. The city of Rome knows this and celebrates it with praises. The people of that city most dear to me feel the same, though deceived by a false hope they chose a prince unworthy of their majesty, who soon met an end befitting his crimes. But I judge it wrong to recall those things now—especially I, who am addressing thee, O Piety, and who take all care and diligence to address thee with pure speech and good words. Yet I will say something that will seem neither base nor unseemly. An inexpiable war, full of madness and unheard-of cruelty, was waged by tyrants against thee, O Piety, and against all thy most holy churches. Nor were there lacking in the city of Rome those who rejoiced in such great evils and public calamity. And a field was appointed for battle.

Then indeed thou, coming forward into the midst, didst give thyself up of thine own accord, sustained and upheld by faith in God. But the cruelty of impious men, having consumed like a flame everything in its path, won for thee a certain wondrous and most celebrated glory. For from this, awe and veneration seized the very spectators. And indeed one could see the torturers and executioners worn out in tormenting the bodies of the righteous, and reduced to a want of resource: the bonds loosened, the racks slackened, and the flames that were applied extinguished; and on the other side the unconquered constancy and freedom of the righteous, who were not moved even the slightest from their station. Having undertaken such things, then, what didst thou accomplish, O most impious of all men? What evil was the cause of thy fury? Thou wilt say perhaps that these things were done by thee in honour of the gods.

But of which gods? Or what great notion of the divine nature didst thou conceive in thy mind? Didst thou suppose the gods to be wrathful just as thou art? But if they were such, one ought rather to marvel at their counsel than to obey their shameless commands, by which they ordered just men to be unjustly slaughtered. But perhaps thou wilt say that thou didst these things on account of the customs of the ancestors and the opinion of men. I pardon thee. For those customs are most like what is done by thee, and flow from one and the same source of ignorance. Thou didst suppose the divine to reside in images fashioned by craftsmen and artificers into human form. For this reason therefore thou didst worship them, applying the greatest care and solicitude lest they be defiled by filth. Great and pre-eminent gods indeed stand in need of the care of men.

Compare, if you please, our religion with thy rites. Is there not among us genuine concord and perpetual humanity? Is there not among us a reproof of fault of such a kind as brings correction, not destruction, and a remedy that conduces to health, not to cruelty? Is there not among us sincere faith, first toward God, and then toward the natural fellowship of men? Is there not among us mercy toward those whom the calamity of fortune has oppressed? Is there not a simple life, concealing no wickedness beneath any veil of pretence, and the knowledge of the true and one God who governs all things? This is true piety; this is whole and uncorrupted religion. This is the wisest rule of living; those who have embraced it press forward as along a certain august road toward eternal life.

For no one who has entered upon this manner of living, and who has a soul purged of every stain of the body, truly dies; but he is to be said rather to fulfil the function appointed him by God than to die. For he who has confessed God yields neither to insult nor to wrath. But bearing necessity with a brave spirit, he holds the proof of his endurance as a kind of provision for the journey toward winning for himself the clemency of the divine Power. For there is no doubt that God embraces men endowed with virtue. Indeed it would be most absurd that men of great power as well as those of lower station should be grateful toward those by whom they are respected or benefited, and should in turn benefit them, while He who is highest of all, and who commands all things, and is Himself the highest good, should be negligent in returning thanks. He accompanies us everywhere throughout all our life, and is present to us whenever we do anything good.

And immediately He defers the full recompense for courage and obedience to another time. For then indeed, when all things shall have been rightly settled, He rewards us with the prize of eternal life in commendation; yet He defers the full and perfect recompense to another time. For then the sum of our whole life shall be brought to account. And if all things shall have been rightly ordered, the reward of eternal life shall follow; but the wicked must be visited with the punishment they deserve.

I now question thee, Decius, who once didst mock the sufferings of the righteous, who didst pursue the Church with hatred, who didst inflict punishment upon men endowed with the highest holiness of life. What is thy condition now after this life? By how many and how grievous afflictions art thou oppressed? Thy misfortune was declared more than sufficiently by that span of time which intervened between thy life and thy death; when thou, laid low in the fields of Scythia together with thy whole army, didst expose the Roman empire, so greatly celebrated everywhere, to the contempt and mockery of the Goths.

Thou also, Valerian, when thou hadst displayed the same cruelty toward the servants of God, didst set before the eyes of all the just judgment of God, taken captive by enemies and led about in chains with the purple cloak and the rest of the imperial attire; and at last, by order of Sapor king of the Persians, thy skin being stripped from thee and preserved, thou didst furnish an everlasting trophy of thy calamity to be gazed upon. Thou likewise, Aurelian, torch of all vices—with what swift and manifest vengeance of the divine Power, while thou wast rushing in fury through Thrace, wast thou struck down in the midst of the public road, and didst fill the furrows of the public embankment with thy impious blood?

Diocletian, after the bloody savagery of his persecution, condemned by his own judgment, was shut up in some mean dwelling on account of the affliction of madness, and paid his penalties. What profit was it to him, then, to have waged war against our God?—namely, that he should thereafter pass the remainder of his life in continual dread of the thunderbolt's stroke. This city of Nicomedia bears witness to these things; nor are they silent who saw the matter with their own eyes, among whose number I myself also am. The palace was laid waste, and the very private chamber of Diocletian, as lightning and a certain heavenly fire consumed it. And indeed the outcome of those events had been foretold by prudent men. For they could not keep silence, nor did they conceal their grief amid such great indignity of affairs, but openly and plainly cast these words among themselves with the utmost freedom: What madness is this?

What so great insolence of power, that men dare to wage war against God, and to heap contumely upon a most holy and most just religion; and that they do not hesitate to contrive the slaughter and destruction of so great a multitude, and of men so entirely upright, without any fault of their own? O illustrious teacher of modesty for all his subjects! O illustrious institutor of the care and solicitude which soldiers should bear toward their fellow citizens! They were piercing the breasts of their own countrymen—men who had never seen the backs of enemies in the field. At length, however, the providence of the divine Power exacted from those men the penalties of such impious deeds; yet not without harm to the commonwealth. So many and so great were the slaughters of our people, that if slaughters of barbarians equally great had ever been made, it would have sufficed to procure for us a lasting peace.

For that entire army of the above-mentioned emperor, when it had come into the power of a cowardly man who had seized the Roman empire by force, God at last restoring liberty to the city of Rome, was utterly destroyed in many and very great battles. But also the cries of those who called upon God as their helper, when they were being oppressed and longed with all their prayers for the freedom innate in them; and likewise the praises rendered to God with thanksgiving after the removal of their evils, when liberty and the equity of contracts had been restored to them—do not all these things declare in every way the singular providence of God, and his fatherly love toward mankind?

When men praise my efforts, which took their beginning from the prompting of the divine Power, do they not openly confirm that God was the author of my brave deeds? So it is indeed. For it is proper to God to do all things that are best, and to men to obey. That service, moreover, is the best and most excellent, when one, before setting hand to a work, takes careful heed that all things be conducted as safely as possible. All mortals know that whatsoever has been accomplished for the benefit of mankind has been happily brought to completion through the most holy ministry of these hands owed to God with pure and sincere faith, and through prayers and supplications joined with the labor of hands; inasmuch as so great benefit has flowed to all, both privately and publicly, as each man had then wished for himself and for those dear to him.

They have also seen battles, and have been spectators of combat, when divine providence bestowed victory upon the people; they observed God favoring and breathing upon our prayers. For a just prayer is an invincible thing, and he who has supplicated God in holiness never falls short of his desire. Nor is any room left for rejection, except whenever faith has wavered. For God is always propitious and present, receiving the uprightness of men with a kindly countenance. Wherefore, to fall at times is indeed human; but God is in no way the author of human failings. All therefore who pursue piety ought to give thanks to the Saviour of all, for our own salvation and for theirs, and for the prosperous state of the commonwealth, and by holy prayers and continual supplications to render Christ propitious to us, that he may will his benefits to be everlasting. For he is the invincible helper and champion of the just; the same is the best judge, the standard-bearer of immortality, and the bestower of eternal life.