教會史 第 1 章 第 24/28 段

And having attacked the Alps, he captured the first outposts.

Having passed the summit of the passage, when he came near the descent, he saw the plain full of cavalry and infantry, and, not far off, in his rear, many of the enemy for the time being remaining quiet on the mountain top.

When those in front, having passed through, engaged with those in the plain, a fierce and evenly contested battle broke out while the army was still passing through.

Considering that, so far as human power and counsel could reach, safety was not possible, since those who had seized the mountain ridge were attacking from the rear, he fell prostrate upon the ground and prayed with tears.

And God at once heard him, as the outcome showed.

For the commanders of those who were encamped upon the height sent certain messengers, announcing that they would become his allies, if they were to be held in honor by him.

But when he asked for paper and ink and could not find any, he took a tablet which one of those standing by happened to have, and wrote down for them the rank of distinguished and fitting military service which they would hold under him, if they fulfilled their promise.

And on these terms they went over to the emperor.

An extraordinary wind, such as we have never before recorded, blew directly against the enemy and threw their ranks into disorder; and the arrows and javelins hurled against the Romans, striking as against a resistant object, were turned back upon the bodies of those who had thrown them, and the wind, snatching the shields from their hands, rolled them back upon them together with rubbish and dust.

Stripped of their weapons, most of them were at once destroyed, while those who for a short time escaped by flight were captured not long after.

Eugenius, running to the emperor's feet, begged to be spared.

But while he was still pleading, his head was cut off by one of the soldiers.

Arbogast, fleeing after the battle, became his own slayer.

It is said that at the very time this war was being waged, in the temple of God situated at the Hebdomon, where the emperor had prayed on his way out, a man possessed by a demon was caught up on high and railed against John the Baptist, taunting him as one who had been beheaded—

"You are defeating me and plotting against my army." And those who happened upon him, as was natural—since there was at that time great eagerness to hear and tell something new concerning the war—were struck with amazement and recorded the day, and not long afterward learned from those who had taken part in the battle that the events of the war had occurred on that very day.

Such, according to report, is how these things came to pass.

After the overthrow of Eugenius, the emperor, having arrived at Milan, went to the church to pray.

But when he came to the doors, Ambrose, the bishop of the city, met him, and, taking hold of his purple robe, said, "Halt, before the assembled people!"

"For it is not lawful for a man defiled by sin, whose hands are unjustly stained with blood, to tread upon the sacred threshold or to partake of the divine mysteries before repentance." And the emperor, marveling at the bishop's boldness of speech, became thoughtful and withdrew, stung by repentance.

The occasion of the sin was as follows.

A charioteer belonging to Butherich, who at that time commanded the soldiers among the Illyrians, having looked shamefully upon the cupbearer, made an attempt upon him, and, having been seized, was kept in custody.

When a notable chariot race was about to be held, the people of Thessalonica demanded, as necessary for the contest, that he be released.

But when this accomplished nothing, they broke out into a violent sedition and in the end killed Butherich.

And when this was reported, the emperor, falling into immoderate anger, ordered that a specified number of those who happened to be present should be put to death.

From this the city was filled with many unjust slaughters.

For even strangers, having just landed by sea or arriving from a journey, were unexpectedly seized.

And pitiable sufferings occurred, among which was the following.

A merchant, in place of his two sons who had been seized, came forward begging that he himself should die and that they should be spared.

And as payment for this he offered the soldiers all the gold he had.

And they, taking pity on the man in his misfortune, agreed to his supplication in exchange for one of his sons, whichever he should choose.

But they said it would not be without danger to themselves to release both, since the required number would then fall short.

The father, looking upon both of them, lamenting and weeping, could not bring himself to choose either one, but remained in perplexity until they were put to death, overcome equally by love for each.

I have also learned that at that time a good servant, when his master was being led to slaughter in his place, was willingly put to death.

When such evils, and, as is likely, others besides, had occurred, Ambrose, holding the emperor responsible, barred him from the church and excommunicated him.

And he himself publicly confessed his sin before the church, and throughout the whole time appointed for his repentance, as one in mourning, he did not make use of the imperial adornments.

And he ordered by law that those who carried out the emperor's commands should defer for thirty days the punishment of those condemned to death, so that the intervening time might soften the emperor's wrath, and, as his anger subsided, room might be made for mercy and repentance.

These are matters which, as is likely, are known only to the people of that region.

As for his most notable customs, in turn:

It was the custom for the emperors to attend church within the sanctuary, set apart, by way of distinction, from the boundary line of the people.

But perceiving that this savored of flattery or disorder, he appointed the emperor's place in the churches to be in front of the chancel-screen of the sanctuary, so that, while he should have precedence over the laity, the priests should still sit before him.

This excellent tradition the emperor Theodosius approved, and those who ruled after him confirmed it, and we see it observed to this very day, deriving from that time.

Concerning this man it seems to me necessary also to set down in writing this deed, worthy of remembrance.

A certain Greek man of rank reviled Gratian and called him unworthy of his father; and having been indicted for this, he was condemned to die.

As he was being led to punishment, Ambrose came to the palace to intercede on his behalf.

But through the eagerness of those who were plotting against him, since Gratian was occupied with watching a hunt of the kind emperors are accustomed to hold for their own private amusement, not for public display, and since none of those stationed at the palace gates announced him, on the ground that it was not a fitting time, Ambrose withdrew.

But coming to the gate through which they were bringing in the wild beasts, he slipped in unnoticed, and having entered together with the huntsmen, he did not withdraw beforehand, nor did he yield to Gratian and those around him who entreated him to leave, until he had at once wrested from the emperor a saving decree that freed the man who was being led to death.

Moreover, he was also exceedingly zealous in guarding the laws of the church and in overseeing the conduct of the clergy under him.

Of the many things he accomplished successfully, let these be recorded by me as proof of the boldness of speech he possessed, for God's sake, before those in power.

The inhabitants of that region testify that many wonders were worked by him, but the greatest concerned the slaying of the dragon which used to lurk near the place called Chamaigephyrae, alongside the highway, and would seize sheep and goats, horses and oxen, and even men.

For he did not go out against this beast bearing a sword or spear, nor holding any other weapon.

But when the creature perceived him and raised its head as if about to attack, he traced the sign of the cross in the air before it with his finger, and spat toward it.

And the creature, having received the spittle into its mouth, immediately fell down dead.

And lying there dead, its size proved to be no less than that of the serpents told of among the Indians.

Indeed, as I have learned, the local inhabitants dragged it out into the nearby plain with eight yoke of oxen and burned it, lest, rotting, it should corrupt the air and cause a pestilence.

For this place was entirely without water.

It is said that once, arriving there in the course of a journey, when those with him were suffering distress from lack of water, he scratched the ground with his hand and prayed.

And with the prayer, water gushed forth in abundance at once, and from that time it has never ceased.

But witnesses to these things are the inhabitants of Isoria, a village of Euroea, in which these events took place.

At this time Theotimus, a Scythian, a man reared in philosophy, presided over the church of Tomis and the rest of Scythia.

Admiring his virtue, the barbarian Huns dwelling along the Ister called him "the god of the Romans."

For indeed they had themselves experienced certain divine deeds in connection with him.

It is said, at any rate, that once, as he was traveling through the land of the barbarians there, some of them, driving along the same road in the opposite direction toward Tomis, met him on the way.

As those around him lamented that they were about to perish on the spot, he dismounted from his horse and prayed.

And the barbarians, seeing neither him nor his companions, nor the horses from which they had dismounted, rode past.

He would win them over to gentleness, entertaining them at table and treating them kindly with gifts.

Thereupon a certain barbarian, supposing it would be an easy matter, plotted to seize him.

And having prepared a noose, leaning on his shield as was his custom when conversing with enemies, he raised his right hand, intending to hurl the rope at him so as to drag him toward himself and his fellow tribesmen.

But at the very moment of the attempt, his upraised hand was held fast in the air, bound; and the barbarian was not released from those invisible bonds until, at the entreaty of the others on his behalf, ...

They say that he remained long-haired, according to the manner of life he had adopted when he first began to practice philosophy, that his diet was frugal, and that he set no fixed time for eating, but determined the moment by [the onset of] hunger or thirst.

For it was, I think, characteristic of a philosopher to yield to these needs only out of necessity, not for the sake of comfort.

About this time Epiphanius also was bishop over the metropolis of the Cyprians.

Not only did his manner of life render him notable for virtue, but also the marvels which God wrought in honoring the man, both while he lived and after his death.

For after his death—a thing which had not been granted him while he lived—report has it that even to this day, at his tomb, demons are driven away and certain healings take place.

But for the time when he was still alive, they also attribute to him many wonders.

Of those stories that have come down to us, this is one.

Being generous toward those in need, whether shipwrecked or otherwise unfortunate, since he had long since spent his own property, he lavished the church's funds on what was needed.

For from every quarter, many, having resolved to spend their wealth piously, both provided it to the church under him while living, and bequeathed it upon their death.

For they trusted that, since he was a good steward and beloved of God, he would spend their gifts according to their own wishes.

They say, at any rate, that once, when little money still remained, the steward of the church became angry and reproached him for being extravagant.

But even so he did not relent, being zealous on behalf of those in need.

And when everything had been spent, someone appeared at the chamber where the steward was staying and gave him a purse containing many gold coins.

But since neither the giver nor the sender was known, and it seemed reasonably astonishing that a person should present himself as unknown while giving so much money, then indeed everyone concluded that the matter was divine.

But there is another such thing said of him which I wish to relate, though I understand it to have been wrought as a wonder by the divinely-inspired Gregory, who long ago presided over Neocaesarea, and I am quite persuaded of this.

But one need not, on that account, disbelieve that a similar deed was also done by Epiphanius, since not even Peter the apostle alone raised the dead, but also John the Evangelist at Ephesus, and the daughters of Philip at Hierapolis; and it is possible to find many, both of old and now, among men beloved of God, who have often performed the very same works.

What I am about to relate is as follows.

Two poor men, having watched for Epiphanius as he was going somewhere, scheming to obtain some greater gain, arranged it so that one stretched himself out on the ground and lay there pretending to be dead, while the other stood by weeping, as though at once lamenting the death of a companion and, blaming his own poverty, unable even to bury him.

Epiphanius prayed that the man lying there might be at rest, and having given what was needed for the burial, said to the weeping man, "Take care of the burial, my child, and cease your weeping."

"And what has befallen him, being inexorable and utterly fixed by destiny, one must bear nobly." Having said such things, he went on his way.

But when no one else was in sight, the man who was standing there, nudging the recumbent man with his foot and at the same time praising him for having so cleverly acted out death, said, "Get up now, and let us spend the day in luxury from the fruits of your labor." But when he still lay there in the same way, and he perceived no more response—neither hearing him though he shouted, nor sensing him though he moved with all his strength—the man ran off and, overtaking the priest, disclosed their trick, and weeping and tearing his hair, begged that his companion be raised up.

But Epiphanius, exhorting him not to bear what had happened too grievously, sent the man away.

For God did not undo what had happened, altogether, I think, to convince men that those who present themselves in such fashion before His servants deceive Him who knows, hears, and beholds all things.

From that time also Acacius was distinguished among the bishops, having already earlier been entrusted with the episcopate of Beroea in Syria.

Of this man it is likely that other deeds worthy of record are also reported, inasmuch as, having been trained in the monastic discipline from youth, he conducted himself with great precision.

He gave proof of the greatest virtue by keeping his episcopal residence open at all times, so that both strangers and citizens, whoever wished, could see him without hindrance even at the hour of eating and sleeping.

For either he lived in such a way as to be always confident of his own conscience, or, guarding against the readiness of human nature toward evil, he devised this practice, so that, always expecting to be caught unawares by those who entered suddenly, he might, through this constant vigilance, never fail in what was required, but always be engaged in serious matters.

Also notable at that time were the two brothers Zeno and Ajax.

They had formerly practiced the philosophic life not in solitary monastic cells, but at Gaza by the sea, in the place also called Maiuma.

Both proved most faithful concerning the doctrine, and confessed God courageously, so that they were also frequently and severely maltreated by the pagans.

It is said that Ajax married a most beautiful wife, but came together with her only three times in the entire time, begetting three children, and that afterward, having renounced such intercourse with his wife, he lived the monastic life.

Of his sons, he trained two toward divine things and celibacy, but the other toward marriage.

And he presided over the church of Vitylium with fairness and great distinction.

Zeno, while still young, having renounced marriage and worldly life, became most diligent in the service of God.

They say of him—indeed we ourselves have witnessed it, when he was bishop of the church at Maiuma, already an old man of about a hundred years—that he was never once late for the morning or evening hymns, or for any other service of God, unless indeed illness kept him back.

Living the monastic philosophic life, he wove linen garments upon a solitary loom, and from this trade he obtained his own necessities and also supplied others, and he did not cease carrying on this same labor until his death, although by seniority he held the first rank among the priests throughout the nation, and presided over a church that was very great both in people and in wealth.

But I have mentioned these men as proof of those who then held priestly office; to go through all of them would be too great a task, since the majority of them were good men, and the divine power bore witness to their lives, readily hearkening to them when invoked, and working very many wonders.

Being guided by such men, the church everywhere led the peoples and the clergy toward concord and virtue.

Nor was it only these things that added dignity to religion, but also Habakkuk, and not long after him Micah, who, first among the prophets, were brought to light about this time.

The bodies of both, as I have learned, were revealed by a divine vision in a dream to Zebennus, who at that time administered the church of Eleutheropolis.

For indeed both belonged to the territory of this district: Cela, the village formerly called Keila, near which Habakkuk was found, and Berathsatia, a place situated about ten stadia from the city.

Near this place was the tomb of Micah, which the natives, not understanding what they were saying, called a faithful monument, naming it in their ancestral tongue Nephsameemana.

These things too, then, sufficiently came to pass for the glory of the Christian doctrine during the present reign.

After the victory over Eugenius, while the emperor Theodosius was still residing at Milan, he fell ill; and reflecting, as I suppose, on the prophecy of John the monk, he suspected that his death was near.

He quickly summoned his son Honorius from Constantinople, and upon seeing him arrive he seemed to feel better, so that he even went forth with him to watch a horse race.

Being affected by illness, he bade his son complete the spectacle, and on the following night he departed this life, in the consulship of the brothers Olybrius and Probinus.

And he left as successors to the empire Arcadius, the elder of his sons, over the nations toward the east, and Honorius over those toward the west.

Both proved like-minded with their father concerning religion.

Meanwhile the barbarian Huns overran certain parts of Armenia and of the empire beginning toward the east.

It was said that Rufinus, the prefect of the East, had secretly brought them in to disturb the empire, being suspected also on other grounds of wishing to usurp power.

But he, on this charge, was not long afterward put to death.

For as soon as the army returned from the battle against Eugenius, and the emperor, as was customary, went out to meet it before Constantinople, the soldiers, without delay, killed Rufinus.

This too became an occasion for religion to advance still further.

For those in power, out of piety, believed that the victories over the tyrants had been achieved for their father through his own piety, and that Rufinus, who had plotted against their rule, had thus been removed without a struggle; and for this reason they more eagerly kept firm the decrees made by former emperors on behalf of the churches, and added gifts of their own.

And their subjects, looking to these, the Greeks readily converted to Christianity, while heretics went over to the universal Church; and those who held the heresy of Arius and Eunomius, because they were at variance among themselves for the reasons stated before, kept diminishing on every occasion.

For many, because of their mutual disagreement, judged that they did not hold correct opinions concerning God, and went over to those who shared the belief of the rulers.

But those in Constantinople who held the views of Macedonius were harmed at that time by having no bishop.

For from the time when, during the reign of Constantius, their churches were taken from them by Eudoxius and his party, they continued under presbyters alone up to the following reign.

As for the Novatians, even though some of them were troubled by the dispute over Easter which Sabbatius had introduced as an innovation, still the majority remained at peace within their own church.

For they were not liable to the same penalties or laws as the other heresies, since they professed the Trinity to be consubstantial.

And at that time they were held together in concord more firmly by the virtue of their leaders.

For after the leadership of Agelius, they obtained that of Marcian, a good man.

And he too having recently died in the present time, Sisinnius succeeded to his bishopric, a man most learned, skilled both in philosophical doctrines and in the sacred books, and ready for debate—so much so that even Eunomius, who was renowned for these very things and made disputation his business, often declined to engage him in argument.

He was of temperate life, so as to be above reproach, but in his manner of living luxurious and varied, so that those who did not know him could hardly believe that one who indulged in such luxury could be temperate.

His character was charming, and he was pleasant in company; and for this reason he was welcome both to the bishops of the universal Church and to those in positions of authority and learning.

He was very well suited both to jest with grace and to bear jesting, enduring either without giving offense, and to answer questions wittily and swiftly.

He said that, though bishop, he had not yet completed even a third day. And since he continued to wear white clothing, one of the men from the universal Church mocked him for it.

But he said to him, "Well then, tell me—where is it said that one must wear black clothing?"

And when the other was at a loss, he took up the reply and said:

"You yourself will not be able to show this;

but as for me, the most wise Solomon also exhorts me, saying, 'Let your garments always be white,' and Christ himself, appearing in the Gospels clothed in white, showed Moses and Elijah likewise to the apostles." However, I think this other saying attributed to Sisinnius was witty as well:

For Leontius, bishop of Ancyra among the Galatians, happened to be residing at Constantinople;

and since the church of the Novatians there had been taken away, Sisinnius came to him asking to have it restored.

But since he would not give it back, and reviled the Novatians as unworthy to hold church, saying that they did away with repentance and the loving-kindness that comes from God, Sisinnius said, "But indeed no one repents as much as I do." And when Leontius asked in what way, he replied, "In that I have had to look upon you."

And they record many other well-aimed sayings of his, and say that many of his words in circulation are not without wit.

He was praised even more as a speaker, being able, through excellent delivery of voice and expression and a most charming countenance, to captivate his hearer.

But let this suffice to show what sort of man he was, as proof of the nature, upbringing, and life that fell to his lot.

About this time, Nectarius having died, and there being deliberation as to whom it was necessary to ordain, different people voted for different men, and the same course did not seem right to all, and time was spent in delay.

There was in Antioch on the Orontes a presbyter named John, of noble birth, of good life, skilled in speaking and persuasion, and surpassing the orators of his time, as even Libanius the Syrian sophist testified;

for when he was about to die, and his intimates asked who would succeed him, he is said to have replied, "John—had the Christians not stolen him from us."

He benefited very many of those who heard him in church toward virtue, and made them like-minded with himself concerning divine matters.

For, living in a godly manner, he instilled in his hearers zeal arising from his own virtue;

and it was readily believed that he did not force people, by any artifice or rhetorical power, to hold opinions like his own, but that he expounded the sacred books sincerely, just as the truth stood.

For speech adorned by deeds naturally appears worthy of belief, but without these it renders the speaker a dissembler and an accuser of his own words, even if he is in earnest in teaching.

And to him belonged distinction in both respects;

for he practiced a temperate way of life and exact conduct, and used clear speech joined with brilliance;

for he was well endowed by nature, and had as teachers Libanius for training in rhetoric, and Andragathius for the study of philosophy.

Though expected to plead cases at law and pursue that career, he resolved instead to devote himself to the sacred books and to practice philosophy according to the rule of the Church.

I have learned that he left behind many books of his own composition, and that he made his expositions of the sacred texts according to the literal sense, avoiding allegorical interpretation.

He did not study under these teachers alone, but also persuaded to share his own outlook Theodore and Maximus, who had become his companions from the school of Libanius;

of whom the one afterward became bishop of Seleucia of the Isaurians, while Theodore became bishop of the see of Mopsuestia in Cilicia, a man sufficiently versed both in the sacred books and in the rest of learning, that of the rhetoricians and philosophers.

But this man, when at first he encountered the divine laws and associated with holy men, praised this way of life and condemned that of the city;

but, as is likely, having adorned with contrary reasonings, drawn from ancient precedents (for he was widely learned), the course he was now pursuing, he returned to the city, judging this—what he now desired to obtain—better, as he supposed.

But when John learned that he was involved in worldly affairs and intent upon marriage, he composed a letter, more divine in style and thought than human understanding could achieve, and sent it to him.

And he, upon reading it, repented;

and again abandoning his estate and renouncing marriage, he was saved by John's counsels and returned to the philosophic life;

so that it seems to me easy to conjecture from this also that a certain formidable persuasiveness flourished in John's words,

for by this he prevailed even over those equally able to speak and to persuade.

From this he also won over the multitude, especially because he was vehement, openly reproving sinners in church, and expressing indignation with frankness against wrongdoers, as though he himself had been wronged.

This naturally pleased the majority, but was grievous to the rich and powerful, among whom most of the sins were to be found.

Having thus become distinguished throughout the whole Roman dominion, both by his deeds and his words—known to those who had experienced him by experience, and to those who had not, by report—he was judged fit to oversee the church of Constantinople as bishop.

When the people and the clergy had voted for this, the emperor also gave his consent and sent those who would bring him.

He also convened a synod, thereby making the ordination more solemn.

Not long after, Asterius, the governor of the East, having received the emperor's letters, informed John that he should come to him, on the pretext of needing to discuss something.

And when he came, Asterius immediately had him mount a carriage with him, and driving with haste arrived at Pagrae, a station so called.

There he handed him over to those sent by the emperor, and turned back.

He was thought to have managed the matter well by acting before the Antiochenes learned of it, they being prone to riots and clearly the sort who would never willingly have parted with John, before suffering or doing something violent.

But when he arrived at Constantinople, and the bishops who had been summoned had assembled, Theophilus stood in the way of the ordination, being eager for Isidore;

who was at that time a presbyter under him, and administrator of the strangers and the poor in Alexandria, and who from his youth had practiced philosophy most excellently in Scete, as I learned from men who had associated with him.

But some say that this man became a friend of Theophilus, because he had become his partner and confidant in a dangerous affair.

For they say that when war was being waged against Maximus, Theophilus gave him gifts and letters addressed both to the emperor and to the usurper, and instructed him to go to Rome, await the outcome of the battle, and give the gifts, together with the letters, to whichever of the two proved victorious.

But when he had done this, it did not go undetected, and in fear he fled and returned to Alexandria.

From that time Theophilus made the man one of his most trusted associates, and thought that the opportune moment had come to repay him for the dangers he had undergone on his behalf, by making him bishop of Constantinople.

But whether it was for this reason, or because he wished to ordain him as a good man, Theophilus in the end gave his consent to the decision in favor of John, simply because he feared Eutropius, who was at that time head of the emperor's household and was earnestly pressing for this ordination.

For they say that Eutropius openly threatened him, either to vote the same way as the other priests, or else to defend himself against those who wished to bring charges against him.

For at that time many had actually brought written charges against him before the synod.