Orations (other than the Theological Orations) 5.2–5.22

The just diseases of the ungodly, the ruptures that were not hidden, and the many other blows and scourges like the deeds they dared; the deaths that did not come in the usual way, the confessions in the midst of their sufferings and the useless repentances, the warnings through dreams and the apparitions while awake: who could worthily tell these in the style of tragedy? And all that befell those who acted lawlessly toward the divine houses, or outraged the holy tables, or raged against the mystic chalices, or glutted themselves without restraint on our bodies, or ran riot in all the other things they dared: clear and manifest signs of God’s wrath against such men? These things I will willingly pass over, not because I disbelieve what is seen and told, nor because I attribute what happens to some spontaneous movement and chance, like those who suppose such things happen at random, but so as not to seem to dwell on small things while passing over the greater and more famous. So I come to tell the wonder that is famous among all and is disbelieved not even by the godless themselves. … raged, and trampled on the holy things, and insulted the Spirit of grace; or, to speak more fittingly, Jeroboam, or Ahab the Israelite, the most lawless of men, or Pharaoh the Egyptian, or Nebuchadnezzar the Assyrian; or, putting all these together, let us call him by all their names, since he appears to have gathered the vices of all into himself: Jeroboam’s apostasy, Ahab’s bloodthirstiness, Pharaoh’s hardness, Nebuchadnezzar’s sacrilege, and the impiety of them all together. When he had gone through everything else and every form of tyranny against us, and despised them as small and ignoble (for there was never a nature more resourceful than his in finding and devising evils), at last he let loose on us the race of the Jews, taking as fellow workers in his scheme their ancient fickleness and the hatred against us that had smouldered in them from of old; pretending, of course, to prophesy from their books and secret writings that the time was now laid up for them to return to their land, rebuild the temple, and renew the power of their ancestral customs, and hiding his design under a pretence of goodwill.

When he had thought of this and persuaded them (for everything that leads to pleasure is easily turned to deception), they set about rebuilding the temple, and toiled at the work with many hands and much eagerness. Indeed, those who admire their affairs say that their women not only readily stripped off all the ornaments of their bodies and contributed them to the work and to the workers, but even carried out the earth in the folds of their garments, sparing neither costly clothing nor tenderness of limb, and considering everything less than the undertaking. But when, driven together suddenly by a wild whirlwind and an earthquake, they rushed to one of the nearby sanctuaries, some to pray, others, as tends to happen in such cases, using what was at hand for help, and others simply swept along by the confusion and falling in with those who were running, there are some who say that not even the sanctuary received them, but that when they came to the doors, which had been open, they found them shut by some invisible and unseen power, which works such wonders to dismay the ungodly and to keep the godly safe. But what all now say and believe is that, as they forced and struggled at the entrance, fire came out from the sanctuary to meet them and stopped them, and burned and consumed some (so that something happened to them like the sufferings of the Sodomites, or like the wonder of Nadab and Abihu, who offered incense in a strange way and perished), and maimed others in the extremities, leaving a living monument of God’s threat and movement against sinners. So it was; and let no one disbelieve it, since no one disbelieves the other mighty works of God either. But what was still more extraordinary and conspicuous: a light stood in the sky, tracing the cross; and the figure and name that had earlier been dishonoured on earth by the godless was now shown in heaven to all alike, and became a trophy to God of his victory over the ungodly, loftier than any trophy. [6] These things came from the heavens and the things above, which shared in our sufferings according to the great harmony and kinship of the universe; let the psalm complete the rest for me: “You destroyed cities” (like those ancient ones for the same impieties), in the very midst of their lawless acts against us, some flooded by the sea and some brought down by earthquake, so that little was lacking for the rest to be fulfilled too, that “their memory perished with a noise,” with a loud and famous destruction; so great was their fall and such the ruin, even of their neighbours, especially those who most rejoiced in impiety, that much time would be needed to restore them, if anyone should even dare to do so. [7] Earth and heaven, then, were so; did the air not give a sign at such a time, and was it not hallowed then by the signs of the cross? Let those who were spectators and initiates of that wonder show even now their garments, marked at that time with the marks of the cross. For at the very moment when someone, whether one of ours or one of those outside, was telling these things or hearing them told, he saw the wonder on himself or on his neighbour, being covered with crosses like stars, or seeing the other so marked in his clothing, more varied than any woven mosaic or elaborate painting. What came of this? Such was the amazement of those who saw it that almost all, as if at one signal and with one voice, called upon the God of the Christians and propitiated him with many praises and supplications; and many, without delay, but immediately upon what happened, ran to our priests and begged earnestly to become part of the church and to be initiated into the more perfect mysteries, purified by holy baptism, and profiting through their fear.

Such were these things; but he, goaded and shaken by his madness little by little, meets the very climax of his misfortunes. For when he thought that Christian affairs were going as he intended and were already conquered, hoping that everything could be taken by him if he only wished it, and having snatched some success against the western barbarians, he takes this one most intelligent and humane counsel. Raising a double army from here, one of hoplites, the other of the demons who led him, in whom he trusted more, he marches against the Persians, relying on the unreason of rashness rather than the safety of strength; and the wisest of men could not even see that boldness and rashness, though close in name, are very far apart in force, like what we call courage and cowardice. For to be bold in what ought to be dared is courage, as to give way is cowardice; but where the danger is greater, to rush to close quarters and push on rather than hold back is rashness, as to withdraw is safety. And to keep what one has and to add something of what one has not are not to be ranked by the same reasoning: the former must be valued most and first by sensible men; the latter, if it comes with ease, may be accepted, and if it meets resistance, disregarded. But the one who risks everything he has to gain something hoped for is very foolish. And he seems to me like a boxer bad at his art who strikes out before setting his stance well; or like a helmsman whose ship is falling apart and unseaworthy, trying to sink an enemy ship, or eager to do so. Considering none of these things, it seems to me, he rashly undertook what he had decided, while Roman affairs were still in travail for him and in a bad state, especially because of the persecution, scheming for others’ land, and being a Salmoneus thundering with a hide, looking to those Trajans and Hadrians, whose safety was admired no less than their courage. But he did not think of Carus, nor of Valerian, who paid the penalty for an unreasoning impulse and (as the tragedy says, that I may not reproach their fortunes) were destroyed within the borders of Persia at the height of their good fortune. … bringing together into one the marvel-mongering of sacrifice, so that it might be destroyed in a short time. And the omen was great and extraordinary (O Christ, and Word, and sufferings of the impassible One, and mystery of the whole world!): to present the race of Christians to the demons, if he mastered what lay before him. Such, then, were the first parts of his undertaking, very bold, and loudly proclaimed by many of his partisans. For taking and cutting through all the land of the Assyrians through which the Euphrates flows, passing by Persia and mingling there with the Tigris, and capturing some of the forts, since there was no one at all to hinder him, whether escaping notice by the speed of his advance or being so led on by the Persians and drawn forward little by little (for both are said), advancing in this way, with the army marching alongside and the ships carrying grain and baggage on the river, after no short interval he attacks Ctesiphon, to come near which was thought by him, because of his longing, to be a part of victory.

From this point, as when sand is pulled from under one’s feet, or a squall strikes a ship, his affairs go backward. For Ctesiphon is a strong fortress and hard to take, fortified with a wall of baked brick, a deep ditch, and the marshes made by the river. Another fortress, called Coche, makes it still stronger, built with equal security, both natural and man-made, and so closely united with it that the two seem to be one city, divided only by the river between them. Since it was possible neither to take it by a sudden assault nor to reduce it by siege, nor to drive past it, especially with the fleet (for the fleet would have been in danger from both sides, shot at and blocked from both), he leaves it behind him, and does so in this way. Cutting off no small part of the Euphrates, the greatest of rivers, and diverting it by a canal so as to be navigable for ships (they say ancient traces of the canal can be seen), and joining it to the Tigris a little further on, he thus saves the ships, handing them from river to river in safety. So he escapes the danger from these fortresses. But when, as he advanced, the Persian force appeared, and was always being added to, it did not think it necessary to stand face to face and risk battle without great necessity, since it could win from its abundance; but shooting and pelting from the hills and narrows, wherever they allowed, and seizing beforehand the vital points of the passage, it easily kept him from going forward. Then he was in great perplexity, and not knowing where to turn, he found a wicked way out of his plan. [11] For a man not without repute among the Persians, imitating Zopyrus with Cyrus at Babylon, as though he had given offence to the Persian king, indeed the greatest offence over the greatest matters, and was therefore most hostile to the king’s affairs and well disposed to those of the Romans, and gaining credit from the pretence, said: “What is this, O emperor? How can you plan so feebly about so great a matter? What is this ship-borne grain of yours, this superfluous cargo, the teacher of cowardice? For nothing is so hard to fight and so quarrelsome as a belly, and having one’s safety in one’s hands. But if you will trust me, you will bid farewell to this fleet and the slackness that goes with it for this noble army; and you yourself, by another road, better supplied and safer, on which I will be your guide (for I claim to know the Persian land as well as anyone), will invade the enemy’s country, obtain your wishes, and return to Rome; and you will reward us then, when you have had proof in deed of our goodwill and our advice.”

When he had said this and persuaded him (for lightness is very credulous, especially when God drives it on), all the terrors came at once: fire held the ships, there was no grain, and there was laughter besides, for the destruction was almost by his own hand; his hopes were gone, and the guide went off together with his promises. The enemy was all round them, the war flowing about them on every side; advance was not easy, food was not plentiful; the army was dejected and angry with the emperor; nothing was left of good hope; and only one thing seemed possible in the circumstances, to be rid of a wicked reign and command. [13] So far, then, things were such; from this point not one account is given, but different ones are told and put together by different people, both by those who were present and by those who were absent. Some say that he was struck by a Persian javelin in a disorderly sally, as he rushed to and fro in his frenzy; and that something happened to him like what befell Cyrus son of Parysatis, who went up with the Ten Thousand against his brother Artaxerxes, fought boldly, and ruined his victory by rashness. Others tell such a story about him: that he went up on one of the high hills to survey the army as from a watchtower and to learn how many were left after the war; and when the number appeared to him great and more than he had hoped, he said, “How terrible, if we bring all these back to the land of the Romans!”, as though begrudging them their safety; at which one of the soldiers was angered and, unable to restrain his rage, thrust him through the bowels, disregarding his own safety. Others say that one of the barbarian jesters dared this (those who follow the soldiers to divert their idleness and to season their drinking). There are some who give this glory to a certain Saracen. At any rate he receives a blow that was truly mortal, and saving for the whole world; and by one cut of his slayer he pays the penalty for the bowels of many in which he had wickedly trusted. At which I marvel how the vain man, who thought he knew everything from them, did not know this one thing, the blow against his own bowels. [14] It is worth not passing over this either about the man, which gives the greatest proof, among many, of his ill fortune. He lay on the bank of the river, gravely hurt by the wound; and knowing that many of those before him who had been thought worthy of glory had vanished from among men by certain arts, so as to be thought more than human, and for this reason were considered gods, he was seized by love of the same glory, and at the same time ashamed of the manner of his death because of the inglorious folly of it. What does he contrive and do? For wickedness is not used up along with life: he tries to throw his body into the river, and for this used some of his trusted fellow workers and initiates of his secrets. And if one of the imperial eunuchs had not perceived the thing and informed the others, and so prevented the attempt out of hatred for the crime, another new god would have appeared to the foolish, born of misfortune. But he, having reigned so and commanded so, so ends his life.

He who was proclaimed after him in the camp itself succeeded to the empire at once, since the height of the danger necessarily sought a leader: a man distinguished in other respects and in his piety, and in appearance truly worthy of rule. He was quite unable to come to blows with the Persians or to advance, though he lacked nothing in courage and eagerness, since the army had let fall its hands and its hopes; so he sought to withdraw, and considered how he might do so safely, as if he had become heir not of an empire but of a defeat. Had not the Persians, moderate in victory (for this is a law among them, to know how to measure good fortune), or fearing something else among the things that are told, turned to an agreement, and one so unexpected and humane, nothing would have prevented the army from being left without even a fire-bearer, as they say; so completely did the Persians have them in hand, fighting on their own land and elated by what had happened; for gaining some success is enough to give hope for the future too. But as it was, the one, as I said, had one aim: to save the army and leave the Romans their sinews; for they were sinews, and if they fared badly, it was through the folly of their commander rather than their own cowardice. And they came to these terms, so shameful and unworthy of the Roman hand, to put it most briefly. If anyone acquits that man of the blame and finds fault with this one, he is to my mind a very unfair reckoner of what happened then. For the ear of grain belongs not to the reaper but to the sower; nor the fire to the one who could not put it out, but to the one who kindled it. And it is time to quote the saying of Herodotus about the tyranny of the Samians: “This shoe Histiaeus stitched, and Aristagoras put on,” he who took over what his predecessor had prepared. [16] What remained but that the body of the impious man should be brought back to the Romans, though he had ended so? And since we also have a dead man, the one who ended his life before him, let us see here too the difference between the two emperors, if this too bears on the happiness or misery of the departed. The one is escorted with public praises and processions and with these solemn rites of ours, all-night hymns and torch-bearing, with which we Christians think it right to honour a pious departure; and the carrying out of his body becomes a festival mingled with grief. And a story is believed by some, and has spread to the ears of the many, that when the body crossed the Taurus, as it was being brought to his ancestral city (the one named after his family, of great name), a sound was heard by some from the heights, as of people singing and escorting him: angelic powers, I suppose, a reward for his piety and a funeral recompense. For even if he seemed to disturb the right faith, this too is the fault of the boorishness and wrong belief of those who held power under him, who took over a soul simple and inexperienced in piety, which did not foresee the pits, led it wherever they wished, and under a pretence of exactness turned his zeal into vice. [17] But we, in the more general way, thinking of the father who laid the foundation of imperial power and faith for Christianity, and of the inheritance of the doctrine that came down to him, honoured as was fitting the body of one who had lived with a just rule, ended his life with a holy end, and left the empire to us. As he approached the great and royal city, why need I tell of the escort of the whole army, and the armed order, as for the living emperor, or the outpouring of the brilliant city, the most famous of all that ever were or will be? And that bold and noble man, adorned with his new purple and, as is likely, proud of it, himself becomes part of the honour of the escort, giving and receiving the same favour, partly forced and partly willing, as they say. For the whole army, though it had yielded to the present power, still gave more respect to the departed (since we are somehow by nature better disposed to sufferings that are still fresh, being touched by affection and attaching pity to it); and for this reason, not bearing that he should not be honoured as emperor, they persuade and compel the apostate to meet the dead body in fitting dress; and this was, stripping his head of the diadem and bowing to the emperor as was fitting, to escort him with the bearers to the tomb and to the celebrated shrine of the Apostles, who received and guard the holy race, which enjoys almost equal honours. So the one … [18] For the other, the start of the campaign was shameful (he was mocked by peoples and cities, with public and scurrilous shouts which many still remember), and the return more inglorious still. What was the inglory? Mimes of jests led him, and he was paraded with the shameful things of the stage, played at with flutes and danced at, and reproached with his apostasy, his defeat, and his end. And what evil did he not suffer? What did he not hear of the things in which such men run riot, whose art is insult, until the city of Tarsus receives him, condemned I know not how or for what to this outrage? There is his dishonoured precinct, his accursed tomb, his detestable shrine, not even to be seen by pious eyes. [19] I have gone through these things as the greatest and most proper of the charges against him, not ignorant that to two or three of the palace flatterers who equalled him in impiety (I willingly pass over the others) so great a wage of impiety was given that nothing would have prevented them, in a short time, from plundering all the land and sea under the Romans, had not a happy end come to affairs more quickly; so far did they surpass the Hundred-handed ones in robbery and greed. And the governments of the provinces were entrusted not to the most decent but to the most inhuman; and there was one qualification for office, transgression, and for obtaining his gifts, to have taken the worst counsel about oneself.

What if I should speak of the changes and reversals of lawsuits, often altered and overturned in the middle of the night, like ebbing tides; since our noble man thought fit to judge too, making everything his own out of ambition? Perhaps I would seem to bring very small charges, and to insult the greatest matters with small ones. But let it at least be agreed that these things do not belong to the Elysian fields, nor to the glory of Rhadamanthys there, the portion of which those of his clan and rank think him worthy. One thing of his I can admire. Many of his acquaintances and friends, especially from his sojourns in Asia, he summoned with all eagerness, as though about to do wonders for them, such as he had made them fly with hopes of, reminding them of his promises; but when they arrived, there it was: tampering with votes and deceptive appearances; he mocked some in one way and others in another; and some he entertained at table, drinking many a toast of “Comrade” and warbling in place of any other bait, and sent them away empty-handed, not knowing whom to blame more, him for the deceit or themselves for their lightness.

And how is this not praiseworthy in the philosopher’s education: that he was so free from anger and above the passions, like those emperors of old who were unmoved and unshaken, and who, whatever happened, would not change their face at all or show a trace of passion; so that he filled the palace with shouts and quaking when he was judging, as though he himself were the one tyrannized and wronged, and not the defender of others who suffered these things? These things we will not deem worthy even of a word; but who of all men does not know that many who approached him in public, even of the more rustic sort, to obtain something of what men ask of emperors, he so mistreated, striking them with his fist in public and kicking them with his heel, that they were content not to suffer anything worse?

And his puffings and counter-puffings, which that wonderful man, while mocking our rites, showed off to old women as he lit the fire on the altar, where shall we put them? Truly a fine thing, to see the cheeks of the Roman emperor disgracing themselves and providing much laughter, not only to outsiders, but to the very people he thought to please by doing it! Did he not hear of Athena, his own goddess, that she cursed the flutes when she saw herself disgraced by them, using the water as a mirror? And the toasts and kisses which he publicly drank to harlots and received from them, slipping licentiousness under the pretext of a mystery, how is this not worthy of wonder? [23] These things experience showed to others, and power, which gave him freedom beforehand; but to me they were seen in a way from afar, from the time I was with the man at Athens. For he came there too, just after the upheaval concerning his brother, having asked the emperor for this very thing. His visit had a double reason: the more seemly, to study Greece and the schools there; the more secret, known to few, to consult the sacrificers and deceivers there about his own affairs, since impiety did not yet have freedom of speech. Then, I know, I proved no bad reader of the man, though I am not one of those well gifted for such things. But the unevenness of his character and the extremity of his excitement made me a prophet, if indeed he is the best prophet who knows how to guess well. For it seemed to me a sign of nothing good: a neck unsteady, shoulders jerking and hunching up, an eye restless and rolling and with a mad look, feet unsteady and shifting, a nostril breathing insolence and contempt, ridiculous contortions of the face expressing the same, laughter unrestrained and convulsive, noddings and shakings of the head for no reason, speech halting and broken off by his breath, questions disorderly and senseless, answers no better than these, tripping over one another, unsteady, and not proceeding in any order. [24] Why should I describe each detail? Such as I saw him before his deeds, such I came to know him in his deeds. And if some of those who were with me then and heard me were present, they would bear witness without difficulty; for when I saw these things I said to them at once: “What an evil the Roman world is rearing!”, having foretold it and prayed that I might prove a false prophet. For it would have been better for the world to be filled with any other evils than these, and for such a monster to appear as never before, though many floods are told of, many conflagrations, earthquakes and chasms, and moreover most inhuman men and strange and composite beasts, which nature produced as novelties. In this way he received an end worthy of his madness, God here alone not keeping to his usual long-suffering, where kindness would have been an evil for many, and would have caused much discouragement to those who do right and much contempt in those who sin, as though no one watched over our affairs, nor was there any governance or recompense, but chance carried and overturned everything; which belongs to a wicked mind, very dangerously disposed about the greatest things. … fighting against God? Where are the oracles against Christians, and the threats, and our destruction by an appointed day, even to the name? All is gone, proved false, flowed away; the boasts of the ungodly have proved a dream.