Cure of the Greek Maladies 1 part 2/16

Wherefore Plato's Socrates too, in the Gorgias, after saying much about those punished in Hades, and indeed also about those proclaimed as pious, added:

'These things, O Callicles, are what I, having heard them, believe to be true.' Yet they were neither evident nor visible matters, but things hidden from most men and confessed by few;

yet nonetheless he said he believed them to be true, and neither did he himself adduce any proof of his belief, nor did his hearers demand one.

And moreover in the first book of the Laws Plato confirmed the argument concerning faith:

'For if your laws have been even moderately well framed, one of the finest of laws would be this: to permit no young man to inquire which of them are well or not well made, but with one voice and from one mouth all to agree that all are well laid down.' Not even in these matters, then, does Plato allow meddlesome inquiry, but bids men receive faithfully what is enacted as law, and not pry into whether it is good or not.

And Theognis the Sicilian poet too proclaims faith its nursling and says:

'A faithful man is worth weighing against gold and silver, Cyrnus, in grievous strife.'

But if he said that the man faithful in strife is more precious than gold and silver, what equivalent could anyone declare for the man who believes the divine oracles without doubt? Indeed, I think what Heraclitus the Ephesian said fits exactly those who, like you, contradict:

'The uncomprehending, when they have heard, are like the deaf;' and the proverb bears witness to them: 'present, they are absent.'

[And so says] Empedocles of Acragas, speaking thus:

'But to the wicked it is very natural to disbelieve what prevails;

for thus the assurances of our Muse command.'

The unbelieving, then, are of the portion of the wicked, according to the man of Acragas;

and these same are uncomprehending and like the deaf, according to Heraclitus.

Moreover, Parmenides the Eleatic too, the companion of Xenophanes of Colophon, enjoins approaching intelligible things with faith:

'Behold things that, though absent, are firmly present to the mind.'

For it is possible to draw near to intelligible things by the mind alone;

but apart from faith, not even the mind can see the things it contemplates.

And this Solon too hints at:

'It is hardest of all to perceive the unseen measure of judgement, which alone holds the limits of all things.'

But if it is hardest to perceive, then to express it is wholly impossible.

And Empedocles too says concerning invisible things:

'It is not attainable to draw near with our eyes, nor to grasp with our hands;

but it is the greatest highway of persuasion that falls into the mind of men.'

And Antisthenes too, the disciple of Socrates and leader of the Cynic school, cries aloud concerning the God of all:

'He is not made known from any image, He is not seen with the eye, He resembles nothing;

wherefore no one can learn Him from an image.' Faith, then, is necessary for those who wish to behold intelligible things, since it is not possible to find for them even an image that corresponds.

And Xenophon the Athenian, the Socratic, son of Gryllus, has written in concord with these:

'At all events, He who shakes all things and brings them to rest is manifest as some great and mighty one.'

And one might hear Bacchylides too saying in his Paeans:

'For it is by no means easy to find the gates of unutterable words.'

We have need, then, of intellectual eyes for the perception of intelligible things; and just as we need the eyes of the body for the contemplation of visible things, so surely we need faith for the beholding of divine things.

For what the eye is in the body, that faith is in the understanding;

or rather, just as the eye needs light to display visible things, so in turn the mind needs faith to display divine things and to keep firm the opinion concerning them.

Hear how Plato accuses those who are unwilling to contemplate intelligible things:

'For look about you carefully,' he says, 'lest one of the uninitiated overhear;

and these are they who think nothing else exists save what they can grip fast with their hands, but do not accept actions and becomings and all that is invisible as having a share in being.' And of this faction you too are members;

but do not take offence at the refutation;

for you cling fast to visible things alone, and worshipping idols wrought by hand, you do not accept the teaching concerning the nature of the Invisible.

And perhaps Epicharmus the comic poet fitted that iambic line to men so disposed:

'Natures of men—wineskins blown full of wind.'

But it is proper to men of sound mind not to be enslaved to prejudice, nor to be bound to ancestral customs, but to seek the truth and to gather what is useful from every quarter.

Or did not Socrates say such things to Crito?

Thus he persuaded Alcibiades to learn, having first banished the conceit of knowledge.

For first he refuted him as not knowing;

'But do you think I could not find out?' he urged.

'Indeed yes, if you would seek.' And when that man in turn said:

'Then do you not think I would seek?' he replied, taking him up:

'I do, if you came to think you did not know.' The beginning of knowledge, then, is the knowledge of one's ignorance.

And this again Plato taught, saying:

'For it is not lawful for the impure to lay hold of the pure.' And this Orpheus too says:

'I will speak to those for whom it is lawful; but you profane ones, shut the doors.'

And Euripides agrees, crying out:

'Things unutterable, for mortals uninitiated to know.'

For how could one offer divine teachings to the uninitiated? And how could anyone be initiated, if he has not first strengthened within himself by faith the doctrines presented by the teachers? And how could he believe, if he has not first banished from his understanding the wrongly preinstilled lessons? True, then, is that tragic saying which Euripides spoke in the Phoenician Women:

'But the unjust argument, being diseased in itself, needs wise remedies.'

And that God also cooperates with those who desire to enjoy healing, the same tragedian said:

'And to him who labours, God too lends a hand.'

A most serviceable thing, then, is faith;

for according to Epicharmus—the Pythagorean, I mean—'mind sees and mind hears; all else is deaf and blind.'

And Heraclitus again enjoins being led as a stranger by faith, speaking thus:

'If you do not hope, you will not find the unhoped-for, since it is unsearchable and inaccessible.' And again:

'Those who seek gold dig up much earth and find but little.' But if those men, for the sake of a few grains, endure ever so much toil—and indeed danger too—who is so unloving of divine things as to flee the teaching about the truth, which yields a profit ten thousandfold? Let no one, then, O friends, accuse faith.

For indeed Aristotle called faith the criterion of knowledge;

and Epicurus called it a preconception of the understanding;

and the preconception, taking on knowledge in addition, becomes comprehension.

But according to our teaching, faith is the voluntary assent of the soul, or the contemplation of an unseen thing, or a standing firm concerning Being and a comprehension of the invisible, commensurate with nature, or a disposition free from doubt, firmly established in the souls of those who possess it.

For neither does faith arise without knowledge, nor knowledge apart from faith;

yet faith leads the way for knowledge, and knowledge follows faith; and from knowledge proceeds the impulse, and upon this follows the action;

for one must first believe, then learn, and having learned set out, and having set out, act.

For neither is it possible to learn even the first elements without trusting the teacher of letters, that this is how one ought to name the first, and thus the second, and so the rest;

for if one were to contradict at once, asserting that one ought not to call the first 'alpha' but to give it another name, he would not learn the truth, but would inevitably wander about and take falsehood for truth;

but if, trusting the teacher, he receives the lessons according to that man's rules, knowledge will follow upon faith as quickly as possible.

So too one ought to trust the geometer when he teaches that there is a point which is altogether without parts, and that there is a length deprived of breadth;

yet this no one could ever demonstrate by argument;

for if one were to take breadth away from length, the length would surely vanish together with the breadth;

but nevertheless the geometer bids us conceive it thus, and he who reaches out to learn those linear figures readily obeys and believes.

Thus too those who attend astronomers believe them, and tell the number of the stars and measure the distances at which they stand apart from one another, and how many myriads of stades the visible heaven is distant from the earth;

and although there is much disagreement in the measurement—some saying it is four hundred and seventy myriads of stades, others fewer, others far more—nonetheless the disciples are persuaded by their teachers and believe what is said by them.

And again, concerning the sun there is much wrangling of words among them.

For Anaximander and Anaximenes said it was twenty-seven times the size of the earth, Anaxagoras that it was larger than the Peloponnese, and Heraclitus the Ephesian that it was a foot wide. Who, then, could laugh worthily at such discord? For their division was not about some small measure, but about an immense one—as great as one could not represent in words;

[who could set] the reckoning of the pebble-count alongside the measure of a human foot? But nonetheless there are some who side with these, others with those;

and believing, some accept saying these things, others those.

Why on earth, then, do you overlook that most irrational faith, but accuse ours alone—ours that is free from such myths and drivel, and receives divine and intelligible things in an intelligible manner? Besides what has been said, let us consider this also: that each of men, wishing to learn some craft, frequents one who knows how to teach, and is content with the lessons offered by him;

and the leather-worker shows how one must hold the cutting-knife and cut up the hides, and moreover stitch them together and fit them to the last;

and the learner believes what is said and does not contradict the teacher;

and the one possesses the knowledge of what is done, while the other is content with faith, and little by little, through faith, acquires the knowledge.

So too the shipwright instructs the one reaching out to learn how he ought to stretch the line, how it is fitting to move the saw, and how to use the adze and the auger and the drill;

and the apprentice learns each of these, doing all that is bidden and making the teacher's words his laws, and believing that through him he will master the craft.

So too the physician not only teaches the science, but also heals the sick;

and he himself knows the rationale of the healing, while the one wrestling with the disease does not understand this, but believes that he will be delivered from the disease through the medical art.

And moreover, to steer the vessel only those know who understand the pilot's art, while the passengers, through them, believe that they will come safely to harbour in the havens they long for.

Therefore, O friend, faith is something common to all—both to those eager to learn some craft, and to those who sail and farm and consult physicians;

but knowledge is not common to all, but only to those who understand the crafts.

Thus, for instance, if we wish to determine whether gold is genuine and refined, we do not ourselves apply it to the test, but bid one who understands such things to assay it;

and he, applying it either to the touchstone or to the fire, pronounces it either base or genuine;

so too, when we buy costly gems, we do not entrust the discernment of these to ourselves, but to those in whom time and experience have implanted this skill;

and if anyone wishes to buy silken, embroidered, and gold-spangled raiment, he entrusts to those skilled in weaving the task of setting on these their proper price;

and indeed he too who wishes to learn the weight of certain golden or silver vessels or of coins brings these to one skilled in the science of weighing, and learns from him the weight, and believes and does not contradict him when he informs him.

Knowledge, then, is not for all, but for those who have learned it through teaching and time and experience;

but faith is for all who are eager to learn anything.

Faith is, moreover, the foundation and base of knowledge;

for even your own philosophers defined faith as the voluntary assent of the soul, and knowledge as a state unalterable by reason.

And it is absurd and exceedingly grievous that, while the teachers of every craft possess knowledge and the learners faith, in the case of divine instruction alone the order should be overturned, and knowledge be demanded before faith;

for it is above all in the case of invisible things that we have need of the eyes of faith.

Wherefore the divine apostle also cries aloud plainly:

[In the mysteries, the people] behold the things performed, and those called priests carry out the ordinance of the rites, but the hierophant alone knows the meaning of what is done, and to whomever he approves he discloses it;

and for what reason a son of these is so named, and why even into the small image there is inserted a member erect and great, the hierophant of those abominable mysteries knows, and anyone else who has come upon those accursed books;

for pleasure, when it takes on drunkenness besides, produces the erection of the generative members.

If, then, not even these unholy and loathsome rites are known to all, but only those called hierophants knew them, it is plain madness to seek knowledge before faith in the case of the all-holy and divine mysteries.

Or do you not obey Pindar the lyric poet, who plainly forbids

to blurt out the ancient teaching to all? This very same thing Plato too enjoins:

'Take care,' he says, 'lest these things ever fall out among uneducated men;

for there are, I think, no things more ridiculous to hear in the ears of the many than these, nor, on the other hand, anything more marvellous and inspired to the naturally gifted.

But being often spoken and ever heard, over many years they are with difficulty refined, like gold, with much labour.' And you have heard Orpheus too saying in what went before:

'I will speak to those for whom it is lawful; but you profane ones, shut the doors.'

Let faith, therefore, lead the way, and knowledge will follow;

for to those who believe purely and sincerely the trusted Lord grants knowledge, and knowledge, supervening upon faith, perfects the science of the truth;

and he who possesses this is blessed and thrice-blessed.

And this too Plato has made clear in the Laws:

'For he who is to be blessed and happy,' he says, 'must from the very outset be a partaker of the truth, so that he may live as a true man for as long a time as possible.' For to those who have partaken of the truth and have lived worthily of it, heaven is made ready and the dwellings of the angels;

but he who is bereft of it and uninitiated, and uninitiated into the all-holy and divine mysteries, shall be bereft of these good things, and shall be handed over to unending punishments.

And this again Plato has made clear in the Phaedo;

for he says that those who handed down the rites to them declared that whoever arrives at Hades uninitiated and unconsecrated shall lie in the mire, but he who has been purified and initiated, arriving there, shall dwell with the gods. Be persuaded, then, O friends, by your own philosophers, who initiate you beforehand and pre-teach you our own doctrines.

For they are exactly like those songbirds which imitate the human voice but do not understand the meaning of what they say;

for in like manner these men too, when discoursing about divine matters, did not know the truth of the very things they spoke.

Yet they have, I think, some measure of pardon, since they enjoyed neither prophetic torchlight nor apostolic illumination, but had nature alone as their guide—the nature whose God-inscribed letters the deceiver of impiety long ago corrupted;

yet some of these the Maker did not allow to become wholly effaced, displaying His own providence for men through the creation.

And this the divine apostle made clear when he addressed the people at Lystra;

for among many other things he said this also:

'Who in the generations gone by allowed all the nations to walk in their own ways;

and yet He did not leave Himself without witness, in that He did good, giving you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, filling your hearts with food and gladness.' For the race of Abraham received both the divine law and enjoyed the grace of prophecy;

but the other nations the Ruler of all guided toward the worship of God through nature and the creation.

And just as the bountiful One sends the rain especially upon the cultivated earth, for the supply of men, but out of His abundance and munificence rains also upon the deserts and the mountains—and the tilled land brings forth cultivated fruits, but the untilled the wild ones;

and we see sometimes fig-trees growing even on tombs and walls—so the gift of knowledge has been bestowed especially upon the pious, but upon those who are not such, as the rain upon the deserts and the thickets.

Whence often these too bring forth certain edible things and imitate the fruits of cultivated plants, yet it is nonetheless evident that they have not received prophetic cultivation;

for a certain roughness and bitterness is mixed in with them;

but those who know how to discern, reaping what is useful, let the rest go—just as those who gather roses leave the thorns but collect the buds.

And indeed this same law is implanted in the bees too;

for settling not only on sweet but also on bitter flowers, they draw up the sweet quality but turn away from the bitter, and out of diverse qualities—bitter and astringent and harsh and pungent—they prepare for men the sweetest honey;

and imitating these, we too, out of your bitter meadows, prepare for you the sweet honey of profit.

And just as those who heal bodies prepare beneficial remedies from venomous beasts, and—casting away some parts of the vipers and boiling others—drive out many diseases by these, so we too, taking in hand the works of your poets and historians and philosophers, leave some aside as poisons, but others, dressing them with the science of teaching, offer you as a healing antidote;

and those whom you supposed to be our adversaries, these we prove to be advocates of our words and show them to be teachers of the faith.

Thus, God willing, we will present to you the rest of our teaching also.

But you, having learned how necessary a thing is faith, embrace the Pythagorean silence and lend your ears quietly to the discourse, receiving faithfully what is said;

for thus indeed, little by little, you will be able to learn the truth.

The perceptible light—both that which is borne from above and that which is devised below by men—displays to those who see what is gold and what is silver, what is bronze and iron and tin, and likewise the other materials; and moreover it teaches the difference of colours and shapes and plants and animals; yet only those whose eyesight is sound receive this knowledge.

For those who are blind gain no benefit from the sunbeam,

for they cannot even see the radiance of the light itself.

Like these are those who are unwilling to behold the intelligible light of truth, but instead gladly pass their lives in the darkness of ignorance—just like those birds that fly by night, which are quite fittingly named after the night;

the night-ravens flee from the light as from an enemy, but embrace the darkness as their salvation.

Now no sensible person would feel indignation at these creatures;

for nature from the beginning allotted them such a manner of life.

But those who of their own free will have yoked themselves to darkness—what pardon could they reasonably obtain, especially now that the divine light has filled every mainland and island with its beam and has reached even the very ends of the inhabited world? For those who fell into this affliction before the divine manifestation have some moderate plea, in that the sun of righteousness had not yet risen for them, but they lived as it were in night and were given light by nature alone;

but since this sun has not only risen, but also—to speak poetically—has bestridden the midst of heaven, what plea of defense is left for those who now go blind at midday and shut their eyes, so as not to enjoy the light? It is the affliction of conceit that does not allow them to scatter the mist from their eyes.

For they think they know the truth better than anyone, because they have been reared on the teachings of men of repute, and they refuse to perceive that, just as fish of the sea are nourished in brine in the greatest abundance, yet for their preparation still require salt,

neither do they perceive this, that eloquence is by no means in every case the teacher of truth.

For what is more delightful than the poetry of Homer? What is sweeter than that melodious diction of his? Yet nevertheless the best of the philosophers—you surely recognize the son of Ariston, I suppose—after anointing him with myrrh, as women do swallows, sent him away out of the city he had himself founded, calling him a teacher of licentiousness and impiety.

For he says that Homer trains the young to blaspheme, instills in them wicked opinions about the gods, and—while they are still tender—imparts to them base and corrupt lessons. And he made very many other accusations besides against the chief of the poets.

Therefore not everyone who has practiced eloquence would prove to be a trustworthy teacher of truth.

And if you put the philosophers forward against us, know well that these too endured very great wandering.

For they did not all travel one single highway, nor did they follow in the footsteps of their predecessors, but each cut his own path and devised countless byways;

for the paths of falsehood are, I suppose, of many branches;

and this will be shown plainly at once.

For Thales, the eldest of the so-called Seven Sages, supposed water to be the first principle of all things, trusting, I think, in what Homer had said:

"Oceanus, the origin of the gods, and mother Tethys."

Anaximander, succeeding him, declared the first principle to be the boundless;

while Hippasus of Metapontum and Heraclitus of Ephesus assigned the first principle of all things to fire;

and Empedocles of Acragas said it was the four elements;

Xenophanes of Colophon said that the universe is eternal, and that all things come from the earth;

and Parmenides of Elea, his companion, likewise confirmed this same account, and declared the criterion of the senses to be false, saying that it least of all attains to the truth;

Epicurus, the Athenian, son of Neocles, said that the universe was composed from the beginning out of atoms, yet that it is without beginning and eternal;

And Plato too has written of him, in the Phaedo, speaking thus:

"For I, Cebes, when I was young, was prodigiously eager for that wisdom which they call inquiry into nature;

and why a thing perishes, and why it exists." Then, after going through many such matters, he added:

"I will give you a sufficient proof.

For I—those very things which I had clearly known before, as it seemed both to myself and to others—was by this inquiry so utterly blinded, that I unlearned even those things which I formerly thought I knew." And again, accusing the contentiousness of the philosophers, Plato runs through the following in the Theaetetus:

"But if you question one of them, they labor to pluck out, as from a quiver, little riddling phrases; and if you seek to grasp the meaning of what they have said, you will be struck with another, freshly renamed.

And you will never reach any conclusion with any one of them;

nor indeed do they with one another, but they take very great care to allow nothing to be stable, neither in argument nor in their own souls, holding, as it seems to me, that such fixity is a thing standing still;

and against this they make all-out war and resist it from every side as far as they are able."

"Perhaps, Theodorus, you have seen these men in battle, but you have not been with them when they are at peace;

for they are not your companions;

but I suppose they explain these things at leisure to their disciples, whom they wish to make like themselves."

"What disciples, my good sir? Among such men no one becomes another's disciple; rather, they spring up of their own accord, each one inspired from wherever he chances upon it, and each thinks the other knows nothing." And a little later again:

"I nearly forgot, Theodorus, that others again have declared the very opposite of these things—for instance, that 'the name of the All is motionless'—and all those doctrines which the followers of Melissus and Parmenides, opposing all these men, strenuously maintain." And indeed in the Sophist too he again accuses them of such things—not an apostle nor a prophet, but the foremost of the philosophers, whether one wishes to call him Plato the son of Ariston, or Socrates the son of Sophroniscus;

for the thoughts are Socrates', but the writings are Plato's.

Whether it be the one or the other, he speaks thus:

"Each of them seems to me to be recounting a sort of fable to us, as if we were children;

and some of their principles sometimes wage war upon one another in a way, while at other times, becoming friendly, they provide marriages and births and the rearing of offspring;

while another, speaking of two—wet and dry, or hot and cold—couples them together and gives them in marriage.

But the Eleatic tribe among us, beginning from Xenophanes and even earlier, recounts its fables on the assumption that all the things called 'the all' are one.

And by now certain Sicilian Muses too have understood that it is safer to weave both together and to say that being is both many and one, and is held together by enmity and friendship." And after saying some such things in sequence, he adds:

"And indeed there seems to be among them a kind of battle of giants, on account of their dispute with one another concerning being."

"How so? The one party drags everything down from heaven to earth and into the realm of the invisible, literally grasping rocks and oaks with their hands."

"For laying hold of all such things, they strenuously insist that this alone exists—whatever offers resistance and some sort of contact—defining body and being to be the same thing." These things our Peter did not allege, nor did Paul, against your philosophers, but Plato, the most eloquent, and Socrates, who by the Pythian oracle was the wisest of all men;

and they said that these men strenuously insist that this alone exists—whatever offers resistance and some sort of contact—and define body and being to be the same thing,

and imagine nothing beyond the things that are seen.

How then could anyone use such men as guides to the truth, when they have endured so great and so grave a wandering, have been in labor with contrary opinions, and have kindled a fierce war against one another? Timon of Phlius, too, the companion of Pyrrho, made a tragedy of them in his Silloi;

and I will recall a few out of very many.

"Wretched men, base disgraces, mere bellies—from such strifes and such guesses are you stuffed full, O men, mere wineskins crammed with empty conceit!"

So it is not only we who have spoken of the affliction of conceit that stands in your way;