講道與書信 第 192 章

That I have hitherto accomplished nothing at all, or at least very little, in describing the affairs of the chief authors of the Manichaean sect, or in designating from the writings of St. Leo the Great the genuine time in which such a heresy became known to the world as deserving condemnation—so it seems to those who have either surveyed with their own eyes Beausobre's history of the Manichaeans, or have heard men worthy of credit discourse about it. In which work, since the author, as we have already said, not only endeavors to overthrow the tradition of the ancient Fathers of the Church, but even, charging most holy men either with error or with ignorance, tears them as with a rabid tooth, whenever in running through their writings he strikes upon something which seems to be repugnant to his party and to his uncatholic religion.

Of which kind indeed are those things which come to be read in the fourth, fifth, and sixth chapters of the earlier part of his History; or those which he took up in writing in the other part, when, bringing to examination the manner in which the divine Leo the Great acted against the Manichaeans, he assails it, and, as though with an envious and blind spite, flares up against him. 1. He treats therefore, in the said chapters of the first part, of those three chief authors of the Manichaean sect; and, proposing to himself to rely on the testimonies of the Greek and Latin Fathers, following holy Epiphanius, he first of all affirms together with us that Scythianus drew his origin from the race of the Saracens. Who afterwards, desiring to acquire for himself the institutions and sciences of the Greeks, wished to inhabit the borders of Palestine.

But at length, transferring himself to the India of the East, by the aid of ships he devoted himself to commerce; in which pursuit, ever enjoying prosperous fortune, he acquired for himself in a short time the greatest riches, the convenience of the seas, the fertility of the places, and the excellence of his own genius always and everywhere smiling upon him. These two things—namely abundance of riches and a most keen genius (says Beausobre)—together with a perfect and manifold knowledge of the sciences, namely of medicine, philosophy, mathematics, and astronomy, are rarely found in one single man. And he asserts that this man, on account of heresies invented or stirred up by him, made his name eternal. But what (the author adds) if Scythianus had merely fallen into heresy?

For then we should not need to hold him in hatred, but rather ought altogether to pity him, since heresy is to be attributed to a weakness of the mind, to wholly involuntary and distorted thoughts, by which a man's genius, drawing back from the fountain of truth, deceived, allows itself to be dragged into error. Wherefore Beausobre, wishing always to deal more gently with Scythianus, calls into doubt the other testimony of Epiphanius cited by us above, by which we saw that this man had applied his mind to the tricks and magical incantations of demons, in which the Egyptians were wont to be occupied. To this opinion Epiphanius alone gave credit (says he), a writer very credulous, and too violent in his assertions;

since on the other hand neither Archelaus, bishop of Caschar, nor Cyril of Jerusalem made any mention of this magical art and trickery of Scythianus. But how many and what sort of fabrications this Beausobrian manner of arguing carries before it, I think is hidden from none of the Catholics at all. For if heresy is in the first place to be attributed to depraved and wholly involuntary movements of the mind, and consists in these alone, why is it turned into a crime? Why is it established by common consent that obstinacy of the will involves the error of heresy, without which no one can be called a heretic?

Assuredly, if the mind involuntarily clung to errors repugnant to the dogmas of the faith, it would scarcely fall into crime, since no act at all has the character of a graver misdeed if it is not brought about voluntarily. Besides, to what can those things tend which he contends about the magical arts of Scythianus? Or does he think that the testimony of Epiphanius can be invalidated by the silence of those two Fathers? He trifles indeed. For Archelaus above all—to whom he appeals as older than Epiphanius—is, as it were, wholly taken up in narrating the affairs of Manes, and in execrating them, so that he scarcely had leisure to make more extended mention of the life and deeds of Scythianus.

Likewise the aim of Cyril of Jerusalem's discourse in that catechesis was not to describe all the deeds of those three authors of the Manichaean sect, but only to consider in passing how three most wicked men had heaped together all the worst things by forging one heresy stuffed with blasphemies and crimes. Therefore, speaking of Scythianus as though in haste, he briefly recalls his origin, his fatherland, the Aristotelian life which he imitated, the four books he composed, his death in Judaea, and at once passes on to Terebinthus, the heir of the gold, the books, and the heresy, about to describe that man's crimes.

But granting freely that an argument of this kind, drawn from the silence of Archelaus and Cyril, concluded something—would not the preceding Beausobrian manner of arguing at once totter and go to ruin? Where do those writers older than Epiphanius, namely Archelaus and Cyril, make mention of Scythianus's commerce, of his philosophy, of his study of mathematics, medicine, and astronomy? They in truth kept a deep silence about all these things; and therefore it would be permissible to infer that all these things flowed together for Beausobre himself, and that he used an excessive as well as violent exaggeration in composing his histories, never having before his eyes the truth which in countless places he asserts he alone has set before himself.

But what, finally, if Cyril had by no means kept such a deep silence in general about the magical art of Scythianus? For he attributes this—as drawn from Scythianus's books—to Terebinthus, that man's successor and heir, writing: When at last he was to be apprehended, he fled to a certain widow. Then, ascending to the roof, and summoning the aerial demons, whom the Manichaeans in their abominable rites are wont to invoke down to this very day, he was struck by divine [power] and, cast down from the house, was destroyed. Two things therefore Cyril there asserts: the one, that Terebinthus, by the aid of the magical art and of demons, was occupied with tricks, in which (according to Beausobre) the Egyptians and the peoples of the Indies had been accustomed to engage;

the other, that the Manichaeans are wont to invoke demons in their abominable rites. Let him therefore tell me, I pray, from what sources they drew this art and these rites, if they did not learn them from the books of Scythianus. Or did the men of this sect withdraw to the eastern region of the Indians in order to devote themselves to these nefarious pursuits? For nowhere do we read that Terebinthus visited the Indians—unless it be permitted to conjecture that he accompanied Scythianus when the latter took care to convey himself thither. And therefore let us affirm that it is more probable that both were imbued with the same disciplines; or that Terebinthus and the other Manichaeans, already (according to Cyril) cultivators of the magical arts, acquired this discipline by the reading of the books which Scythianus had written.

Wherefore, if it is permissible to reason thus without any scruple, the testimony of Epiphanius will stand more firmly, by which he affirmed that Scythianus had applied his effort to tricks and to the incantations of demons. 2. But come, let us dismiss these things, being about to point out another fabrication which Beausobre attempts to fasten upon the aforesaid Epiphanius, on occasion of the marital union entered into by Scythianus with a woman of the Upper Thebaid. For Archelaus relates that she was a captive, with whom Socrates concurred. And that Orientals do not shrink from captive wives, Beausobre himself, supported by the testimony of some, asserts.

But he seizes thence the occasion to turn his pen against Epiphanius, because [Epiphanius] wished to convert a beautiful and young captive into a ruined and infamous harlot; as though it ought to have shamed Scythianus, a man ruined in morals and religion, to take a prostitute [to wife]. But from what source he could draw an anecdote of this kind, very ignominious to the reputation of Scythianus, since Epiphanius passes it over in silence—Beausobre, since he was ignorant of it, flaring up against Epiphanius, does not fear to call him a slanderer. He therefore judges that [Epiphanius], carried away by nothing but a vehement zeal and violence of mind, described the deeds and morals of the heretics.

This manner, however, of thinking and writing, and one like it, which smacks of the fabrications of the Pyrrhonists, we shall easily overthrow, recalling to mind together with us the depraved morals of the Manichaeans. For no sect, even of the heathen, could be found more wicked in unchastities, no other school of men more depraved in the incestuous acts of unbridled lust, than the Manichaean. For, every shame and modesty of human nature being cast off, they reckoned it unlawful to restrain the carnal movements of concupiscence, and shrank from marriage, in order that they might guard against the procreation of children: but they perpetually made use of mutual and nefarious commixtures.

What modesty, then, what shame of public and private honesty, could there be in a man who taught his followers that marriages are to be execrated, and that they are permitted with all [women] to engage in acts of incestuous and most base lust? But that the Manichaeans were not only accused of these outrages, but had already many times been convicted by public and authentic monuments and testimonies, the Acts of the Roman Inquisition, drawn up in writing under Leo the Great, plainly reveal; or those [Acts] which were held in the Churches of Africa, about which we shall speak more opportunely in their place, the order of times being observed. But let us return to Beausobre. He therefore concedes that Scythianus's wife was a captive.

But from what source does he gather that, just as [Scythianus] did not blush to take a captive [to wife], he had a scruple about taking her as a wife from a harlot's trade? That she was beautiful and young, Beausobre affirms without any authority; and he thinks this can be proved by the fact that Scythianus loved her more than the rest. Therefore, on account of this so great love, could he have had her as a partner in wedlock, even though she had already long since presented herself as common to all at Thebais? Nor does it help [his case] that those sources or older writers, from whom this fact was drawn, are passed over in silence by Epiphanius, since none of the ancients called it into doubt, or handed down the contrary;

since perhaps all who surveyed Epiphanius's writings were led by this persuasion, that the holy bishop had committed to writing the deeds done by Scythianus and this man's morals, relying on the traditions of his elders. Against whose sayings, indeed, men either contemporary with him, or at least of the following ages, stained with the Manichaean taint, would have set themselves, and would have branded him with the mark of falsehood, in order to vindicate their chief author from this infamy, had they known the matter to be otherwise. Therefore the silence of these men, joined to the firm assertions of Epiphanius, more fully reveals how greatly it behooves one to value the ill-digested criticism of Beausobre.

especially since, without the aid of any new documents, after so many centuries, one man alone, Beausobre, far removed from the ages of Scythianus and Epiphanius (for it was in the course of the present century, namely in the year one thousand seven hundred and thirty-nine, that he ended his enjoyment of the light of this life), strove to overthrow and abolish the tradition of the ancient Fathers of the Church by mere fabricated tales. 3. Our critic, however, seemed to deal more gently with Saint Cyril, bishop of Jerusalem, whom he asserts not to have fallen into error, but to have wished to employ excessive exaggeration.

For this reason he claims that in describing the deeds of Scythianus, Cyril played the part of the declaimers, who are more eager to magnify the arguments set before them by rhetorical amplifications and exaggerations than to lay open their truth. And indeed Cyril, when about to speak of the religion of Scythianus, said that this man had nothing in common either with Judaism or with Christianity. Beausobre contends that he so read it in the Greek text of Cyril, although the ancient Cologne version expunges those first words, «with Judaism.» But even granting freely that the Greek codices contain both readings, just as we read in Photius, what does Cyril ever say that is repugnant to truth, and that, even if it be no open error, at least displays excessive exaggeration and hyperbole?

Christophorus Wolfius indeed, in editing the works of Photius, which he had newly printed at Hamburg, wrote concerning Scythianus: This man was the first among Christians to be the author of the foolish opinion about two principles. But that this opinion is a foolish one—one among so many and so great blasphemies which the Manichaeans devised concerning the nativity, death, and resurrection of Christ in the flesh, and which utterly overthrows the more fundamental and solid principles of the Christian faith—is now sufficiently proven to all, and we ourselves shall explain it in what follows. What then could that religion have in common with the faith of Christians, which attacks and abolishes the fundamental mysteries?

Surely, if Beausobre's conjectures held good, then even a pagan who denies the existence of one God and the distinction of three persons, who bestows divine honours upon created and sensible things—namely upon the sun, upon light, and upon the stars—and who blasphemes the Mother of God and denies that the divine Word of the Father was made man, and who professes countless other errors of that kind, could have something in common with us, for this sole reason: that he would dare wrongly to claim for himself the name of Christ. But who would ever affirm this with truth? For the pagan of whom we speak, apart from the Christian name which he would sacrilegiously usurp for himself, would have absolutely nothing of the faith, morals, rites, and institutions of Christians.

Nay rather, he would strive either to corrupt or to abolish all these things. Such indeed I judge Cyril to have reasoned within himself, when he wrote that Scythianus had absolutely nothing in common with Christianity. But if then Beausobre should pretend that he contradicts Cyril, being led by the testimony of Archelaus, who called Scythianus a heretic and an apostate, one who, driven by a vehement ambition of obtaining the episcopate, defected—just as has been ascertained concerning other authors of heresies—our explanation would by no means totter. For what prevents these things from being able to be true of a pagan man who feigns the Christian faith?

Especially since, even on Beausobre's own authority, Scythianus was never willing to have a fixed dwelling anywhere, but running hither and thither he inhabited now the regions of the Saracens, now the districts of Palestine, of the Thebaid, of Judea, of the Egyptians, and of the Indians. It could therefore have happened that, dwelling at some time among Christians and using the greatest dissimulation, he outwardly affected the Christian religion, meaning to deceive the peoples by such deceit; namely that he might hope the honour and dignity of the episcopate could be conferred upon him—by which, without doubt, he might have set forth the depraved dogmas that he had imbibed and revolved in his mind, to be more easily believed and professed by others.

At last, since in surveying the affairs and doctrines of the Manichaeans I had thus far not found even one of the articles of the Christian faith—those which they call fundamental—which they preserved whole and in its purity, I can scarcely be persuaded that their chief author could have had, in his teachings, anything in common with Christianity. Therefore, about to pass on to other matters, I close the present engagement, reasoning thus: that just as the malice of this most wicked man could be restrained by no law from attempting to weaken or overthrow all the dogmas of the Christian faith, so too he flattered himself with a vehement passion that by evil arts he would attain the honour of the episcopate;

which two things show that the sayings of Cyril and of Archelaus can be reconciled without any forced interpretation. 4. Now indeed, if we were to pursue Beausobre's manner of writing step by step, as we have determined, it would be necessary to discuss the four books of Scythianus. But since we intend to speak of these writings elsewhere, in that part of this history, we for the present pass over holding this engagement, meaning rather to return again in our discourse to Epiphanius. Him, therefore, again torn to pieces with curses and insults, Beausobre brought upon the stage, on the occasion of the evil death which Scythianus underwent. He therefore compares the testimony of Epiphanius concerning the killing of Scythianus with the sayings of other ancient writers;

and understanding that they do not entirely correspond to him in the same words, he lapsed into this persuasion, that the heretical man of whom we speak, seized by a natural disease, ended his days. Archelaus (he himself says) wrote nothing about the death of Scythianus from which one might argue that he perished beyond the order of nature. Cyril of Jerusalem (he adds), who flourished before Epiphanius and was thoroughly conversant with matters that had already long ago occurred in that city, describes in very concise language the heretic's coming into Judea, that he might infect that region as with a pestilential contagion; and immediately, with no word interposed by which disputations with the doctors of the Mosaic law might be indicated, he subjoins: When that man had been destroyed by disease, the Lord stilled the pestilence.

Photius at last, using briefer language, wrote that Scythianus perished by a bitter death. Furthermore, from this variety of what the writers say, Beausobre congratulates himself, and, as though seeking a knot in a bulrush, he rendered the Greek text of Epiphanius into French, interpolated with many notes and animadversions, contending that the narrative of this man collapses utterly, since no other favours him;

nay, that the histories of the Jews openly contradict him—histories which lay bare both the destruction of the Jewish people and the overthrow of the Temple of Jerusalem, accomplished by the arms and soldiers of Titus and Vespasian—on account of which it would have been utterly impossible for Scythianus to engage in disputations with the Jewish priests, and then by tricks and magical incantations to ascend the temple of that city. And so, the city being already devastated and the temple razed to the ground, Scythianus did not come to perform all those deeds which Epiphanius relates—as we ourselves, already in the first chapter of this work, freely granted against the credit of Epiphanius, explaining that his words are to be taken in a looser sense.

Who that has not surveyed the histories of the Jewish people after the reign of Titus would think that all these things bear the appearance of truth? Yet those skilled in Jewish affairs will judge otherwise, they who know that Jerusalem, not yet fully destroyed by Titus and Vespasian—with various buildings and towers surviving—was again built up by Hadrian, an emperor of that name, and was inhabited not only by foreigners, but by many thousands of the Jews. Then, namely, when the ancient name having been changed to that of Aelia, Rufus, the governor of Judea, with an armed band suppressed the sedition that had been stirred up against him, putting to death many thousands of men, women, and children.

This second destruction of the Jewish nation under the Roman emperors we ourselves have noted at the History. Beausobre praised it for the sake of confirming his own conjectures. Which city, then, if afterwards it was granted to be inhabited by foreign nations coming from various regions of the earth—because, having been converted into the jurisdiction of the Romans, it changed its rite and its name;

nevertheless the Jews surviving in that city did not change their legal ceremonies, but, the succession of priests and Levites and other ministers being preserved, just as in the captivities of the Assyrians and Babylonians, they inculcated that the Mosaic law was to be observed more rigidly in the synagogues, the places of prayer, and the other assemblies—the Pharisees, the doctors of the laws, and the chiefs of the tribes applying every effort lest the crowds either give their name to Christ, or, after the example of the Romans, serve idols. How then could it not have come to pass that, in the second century, Scythianus, coming to Jerusalem or Aelia.

attacked the priests of the Jewish people, meaning to prove by his disputations that the Old Testament and the Mosaic law took their origin from an evil author-god; but when he had been overcome by his adversaries, in order to wipe out the mark of disgrace, he too, using the arts of tricksters, did not attempt—with the aid of demons—to ascend the roof of some house built near the ruins of the temple, or to draw water from the ancient towers which had survived the destruction wrought by Titus and Vespasian? Now these things I do not understand to conflict with one another.

Especially since I know that all men are aware that that third book which Scythianus had written, and which he called On the Mysteries, contains refutations of the Law and the Prophets, and abounds in calumnies against the sacred writers of the Old Testament. Therefore, in order that he might persuade the people that the Mosaic law had been handed down by an evil spirit, by fabricating it, he needed first to set out for Judea, that he might infect that region with a pestilential contagion. For he could not have poured forth the venom of his wickedness unless he had held gatherings, assemblies, and disputations in their very presence.

But that this man of so great blasphemies and sacrileges was struck down by God, and taken from the living by a sudden death, Cyril's manner of speaking betrays not only by these words—when that man had been destroyed by disease, the Lord stilled the pestilence—but also by the words following, in which he relates that Terebinthus, the disciple of Scythianus's wickedness, was made the heir both of the gold and of the heresies of his master; who indeed, having become known in Judea and Palestine, was expelled from those borders, and was thereby forced to cross over into Persia. So great a hatred, therefore, and horror of the people had the disciple stirred up against himself on account of his master's death and crimes, that he was no longer permitted to dwell there. And that the death of Scythianus was indeed bitter, Photius too affirms.

For that death is not usually called bitter which is caused by a natural sickness of the body, and which, on account of the dissolution of the members, separates the soul from the corruptible flesh. But we are wont to call such a death that which those guilty of crimes undergo violently, with God as avenger; or that which judges and executioners inflict, or command to be inflicted, upon evildoers who have been drained by the gravity of their punishments. And that God was the author of Scythianus's death, Cyril's manner of speaking hints; that it was afterwards cruel and violent is signified by Photius in those words, «by a bitter death,» as is likely. Finally, that the hatred of the Jews against Terebinthus compelled him as an exile to depart from the borders of Palestine and Judea, by the tumult and wrath of the peoples, becomes plainly known from his flight into Persia.

For this reason it is to be believed that the disciple was eager at least to hide and blot out the mark of ignominy and disgrace, both by seizing upon flight and by taking on the condition of a slave, and by casting aside his own ancient name. 5. But by no reasoning can Beausobre be brought to concede this last assertion—namely, that Terebinthus, to wipe out the mark of disgrace, changed his ancient name, taking on the other name of Buddas. But in order that he might more easily draw his readers into his own opinion, he built up a rich store of studied erudition and a magnificent apparatus of words, that he might gradually bring the ancient Fathers of the Church into bad faith, and cause those who are not ashamed to read through his work written in French to depart from the path of truth.

In the fifth chapter, therefore, of the aforesaid book, having first brought forward into the midst various etymologies and explanations of the name Terebinthus, he judged that that reading could commend itself to him from among his readings which would either wholly dissolve the frauds and deceits of the crafty man, or at least in great part diminish them. He then praises the Acts of Archelaus, bishop of Caschara; from which he contends that the name Buddas was by no means assumed by Terebinthus to avoid the hatred and vengeance of the peoples, but that it is derived from the Chaldean idiom, and signifies among the Persians the same thing that the word Terebinthus does among the Greeks. He adds that those two names correspond aptly to one another, just as these others found in the sacred letters: namely, Christ and Messiah;

Peter and Cephas, Dorcas and Tabitha. This, as though a mystery unravelled by himself, Beausobre would have sold to his readers. But when he ran through the work of Fabricius, he learned that he had long since been anticipated in the understanding of so profound and hidden a matter. Wherefore, having dwelt rather long upon these observations, he affirmed without hesitation of mind that Terebinthus and Buddas display exactly the same signification. Of which matter, finally, he calls as most abundant witnesses both the most illustrious man Simonius Assemanus, most skilled in the Oriental languages and prefect of the Vatican Library, and Bochart, a writer devoted to Sacred Geography, who explain these Syriac words, namely Bethma, Boutema, and Butema;

which, although they have some diversity of letters, nevertheless they believed to have been used by the ancients for one and the same Terebinthus, or Buddas. Whether these things which Beausobre in the aforesaid chapter has exaggerated be true, or rather fabulous, those devoted to the study of Oriental languages and vocabularies will judge. We, however, do not for the present dare to place full faith in all these things: but our mind, lest it pass judgment on unknown matters, remaining in suspense, weighs that the preceding heap of matters from Beausobre is not free from contradiction. For if we believe this servant of Scythianus, or disciple, the second master of the Manichaean school, that Terebinthus was his native name, then he ought to have retained it among all nations, and even among the Chaldeans;

although among the peoples of this nation, on account of the diversity of idioms and the use of letters, it would be pronounced with another sound and a flexibility of the voice. Or else it must be said that, induced by a grave cause, it was necessary to change that Terebinthus. If Beausobre will grant the first—as he ought to grant—why then, the Chaldean ending of the word not being preserved, namely in a or in m, does he write Budda? For who does not see that these have no affinity with the birth-name of this heretic, and moreover do not preserve the radical elements of the letters? Therefore I am not easily moved to assent to Beausobre's sayings, by which he strives to persuade us that the Assyrians could, and were accustomed, to change even the proper birth-names of men.

The reason indeed adduced by him from Bochart utterly collapses, since that author, in his Sacred Geography, does not affirm that those two words Terebinthus and Butam, or Budam, cohere in signification among the Assyrians and Greeks; but that they denote and correspond to the word of the Persians, Buddas, and are used for Terebinthus, the impious teacher of Manes, according to Bochart. 6. Yet even though Bochart should favour Beausobre's conjectures, it would by no means make trouble for us, so as to make us reject the opinions of the more ancient Fathers into a corner as false. For when Cyril openly wrote:

«Lest he should be recognized by his own name in Persia, he called himself Buddas»—he declared the deceitful and fraudulent design of Terebinthus, by which he sought to conceal his own crimes and those of his master. This very thing Photius confirmed from the sayings both of Cyril and of Epiphanius, saying that Terebinthus set out for Persia, having taken on the name of Buddas. For his fame, already spread abroad, had procured hatred for the impious man before he came into anyone's company. What more? Peter of Sicily, who diligently learned the deeds of the Manichaeans both from the writings of others and from the constant fame and tradition of others, has hitherto supported what has been said.

Yet it seems strange to us that Beausobre, in unrolling the writings of the ancients, did not find even one who affirmed that the word Terebinthus was taken from the Greeks to signify a tree, and then interpreted by the Assyrians for Buddas, or Butha. What cause would there be, as he himself says, why the Persians should impose this latter name upon Terebinthus; as though those devoted to study should rather call this man by the vernacular idiom than by the Greek. Strange, I say, that not even one has testified to this. Wherefore those three examples boldly taken from the sacred letters make nothing at all for the present question—those in which, to designate one and the same person, those two words (in view of the diversity of idioms) had necessarily to be doubled.

For the sacred writers themselves indicated the cause of the doubling: namely, to guard against any equivocation whatsoever. And lest anyone should think that we wish for the present to depart from the examples adduced, we appeal to those Scriptures of the New Testament in which mention is made of Christ and Messiah, of Peter and Cephas, of Tabitha and Dorcas. For in all these the sacred writers, and their interpreters, used formulas of explanation to indicate the diversity of idioms and interpretations; lest anyone, led into error, should suppose that the persons too were doubled. Of Christ indeed and Messiah John spoke, writing: I know that the Messiah cometh, who is called Christ; and more clearly in another text, the same John.

reporting the words of Andrew, brother of Simon Peter, he writes: We have found the Messiah, which is, being interpreted, Christ. Again the same John, about to speak of Peter and Cephas, has: Thou art Simon Bar-Jona, thou shalt be called Cephas, which is interpreted Peter. And at last Saint Luke, in the Acts of the Apostles, to remove any ambiguity of speech whatsoever, discoursing of Tabitha, has these words: Now in Joppa there was a certain disciple named Tabitha, which by interpretation is called Dorcas. Innumerable indeed other examples of that kind in the Scriptures and among the holy Fathers.

we have come upon, upon which we deem it superfluous to dwell for the present, lest in rejecting those things which Beausobre is wont to adduce for the sake of throwing dust in our eyes, we proceed too prolixly. Therefore, about to make an end to this argument, we thus close our discourse: Since, then, among so many and so various ancient writers, not even one has said that Terebinthus, a Greek word, is interpreted in Syriac as Buddas, we are plainly ignorant by what license Beausobre wished to appeal to the preceding examples borrowed from the Scriptures, in order to bring the ancient holy Fathers and writers who discourse on Manichaean matters into bad faith, and to attack them as though they were guilty of impostures and lies;

yet those things which Beausobre has hitherto written in this chapter concerning Terebinthus could be judged tolerable, if he had not afterwards opened for himself a still broader way to overthrow other matters of greater moment which the more ancient writers handed down concerning the Manichaeans; or if he did not strive with all the zeal of his mind to abolish those dogmas of the Christian religion of which open mention is made in the sacred letters. 197. Of the former kind are those things which he there wrote concerning the disputations of Buddas, or Terebinthus, held at Babylon with the priests of the Sun, of which Cyril, Epiphanius, Photius, and the rest made mention.

namely, when the most wicked man, desiring to acquire at once fame and honour, most shamelessly boasted that he had been born of a virgin woman, as is also gathered from the Acts of Archelaus. But of the other kind are those things which he writes when treating of the tricks and demoniac art of Terebinthus, in which we have already understood from the testimonies of the ancients that this sacrilegious man was thoroughly instructed. For Beausobre contends that by no reasoning can one be brought to believe that the evil angels, or demons, can exercise any force and power over the elements, over men, and over the other created things:

and thus, insisting upon his own side, he condemns as ridiculous that rite of the Roman Church by which, the divine help being implored, it applies and pronounces exorcisms and exsufflations over the bodies of animate beings, over the elements, and over other things devoid of sense, in order to expel demons. As therefore concerns the former kind of matters, the aforesaid critic obstinately denies that Terebinthus, or Buddas the Manichaean, could feign and preach that he was begotten and born from the womb, or from the side, of a virgin.

For one, he himself says, of the chief dogmas of the Manichaeans was this: to deny the mystery of the Incarnation of the divine Word, and the union of the two natures in one person, being led by this reasoning, namely, that a virgin woman can never, without carnal intercourse and the seed of a man, conceive a son who is man, and bring him forth into the light. Such a fiction (he subjoins) is to be attributed to another man of this name, who was the author of the sect of the Gymnosophists, as the ancient writers have affirmed. Some of whom even ascribed it to Simon Magus. Saint

Jerome at last, in his book against Jovinian, expressly makes the author of this imposture the Indian, as though through the hands of this man the authority of this opinion is handed down, that a virgin generated from her side Buddas, the chief of them. I confess indeed that these things concerning Buddas the Manichaean are not affirmed by Cyril, Epiphanius, Photius, and the others who consigned the deeds of the Manichaeans to writing; yet that fabulous generation from a virginal womb is recounted in the Acts of Archelaus. But what of it? Was such a narrative contained in the autograph Acts and in the older copies of that disputation held? Did anyone anywhere among the nations affirm it?

For those Acts, even by the support of most learned men, were several times more gravely interpolated and wounded, now by the zeal of the interpreters, now by the drowsiness and negligence of the copyists; so that at present we can scarcely, and not even scarcely, judge concerning their integrity. Wherefore I easily persuade myself that if, besides Buddas the Manichaean, we must admit another Indian, the author of the sect of the Gymnosophists, then at some time unskilled copyists, deceived by the similarity of the name, inserted that fabulous generation into the Acts of Archelaus, as though it were preached by Buddas the Manichaean. Our conjecture indeed is favoured by the silence of other writers, and by the testimony of Beausobre himself.

For he contends in almost innumerable passages that Cyril, Epiphanius, Photius, Peter of Sicily, and the other writers, in narrating Manichaean matters, relied upon the Acts of Archelaus (which he calls apocryphal), and transferred each particular contained in them, either summarily or more at length, into their own writings. Since therefore, on the same Beausobre's authority, no writer later than Archelaus has made any word at all concerning this fabulous generation, as though preached by Buddas the Manichaean, it will be necessary to judge that it was neither contained in the autograph writings of Archelaus, nor in the older copies of these; or that, if it was contained, they rejected it as a spurious addition.

Although, however, that Buddas of whom we speak perhaps did not fabricate that tale about his own generation and scatter it among the common people, nevertheless he could not, without a mark of audacity, deny that he wished to hold disputations with the priests of the Sun and the learned men of the Persians. For Cyril, after he had described this man's flight from the borders of Palestine, the change of his name, and his crossing over into Persia, immediately subjoined: But there he had as adversaries the priests of the Sun, and, many discourses and contentions being stirred up, he was refuted. At last, when he was about to be arrested, he fled to a certain widow.

Photius too said that this cunning fellow reaped no fruit from the change of his name, and that when, from his works and his doctrine, he had become known to those who previously did not know him, he was refuted and expelled by learned men among the Persians who, though they did not indeed hold pious views, nevertheless maintained a better opinion than he concerning all things. 8. But concerning what matters Buddas held questions and disputations with the priests of the Persians, I judge that it is not for me to decide, lest I be branded with the mark of rashness.

Yet Beausobre strove to investigate the matter more diligently, and finding some discrepancy between Archelaus's manner of writing and Epiphanius's way of speaking, though he could easily have reconciled their testimonies without any mark of contradiction, he neglected to do so; and following the aforesaid method of his criticism, he contended that the aforesaid Fathers by no means understood the systems of Zoroaster and of the Persians concerning two principles, or one only, and the transmigration of souls from bodies into bodies—as he himself affirms he has reserved for himself to prove in the other part of the History.

Finally he concludes, from the testimony of Archelaus, that this man did not say that the disputation between Buddas and the priests, or wise men, of the Persians pertained to the existence of two principles, but rather regarded the war made by adverse powers against God. But if we carefully weigh these things, shall we not be compelled to affirm that Beausobre delights merely in trifles? For if the disputation held, on Archelaus's authority, was about the war which adverse princes, or powers, made against God before the outward development of things, then Buddas was already more boldly defending two eternal principles at odds with one another, as Epiphanius affirmed.

For this reason, what difference shall we say lies in the manner of speaking of each author, when both accounts reach exactly the same conclusion, with only this difference of wording admitted, that Archelaus set out the disputation more at length, whereas Epiphanius set it out more concisely or more tightly? Photius, finally, asserts that only Buddas and the priests of the Sun disputed, and that these argued more correctly than that Manichaean thought. And indeed that by his disputations he gained for himself no disciple at all — if we except that widow, his friend, deceived by tricks and evil arts, at whose house he was received as a guest — is already made known from the narrative of Archelaus. Who then added:

Early in the morning he climbed up onto a certain lofty terrace, where he began to invoke certain names, which, as Turbo told us, only the seven elect had learned. But what Buddas did after his ascent onto the terrace, and what befell him when God took vengeance, Archelaus at once related. When therefore (he says) he had ascended — for the sake of some rite or artifice I know not what, and he ascended alone, lest he might there be refuted by anyone... While he was contriving these things, the most just God commanded him to be thrust down beneath the earth by a spirit. Beausobre affirms that a narrative of this kind totters for many reasons.

For where Archelaus said that Buddas invoked certain names, Cyril, departing from him, substituted aerial demons — namely those whom the Manichaeans are wont to invoke in their sacrifices or assemblies, as Christophorus Wolfius interprets it. After this Beausobre observes that the Greek writers do not agree in recounting the rites employed by Buddas, since Archelaus said only that he ascended the terrace to invoke certain names, whereas Epiphanius contends that those rites were magical, so that he might accomplish some preternatural sign to stop the mouths of his adversaries. Archelaus concludes, finally, that a spirit was commanded by God to thrust Buddas down from the terrace to the earth — which spirit Epiphanius called an angel;

and Cedrenus, as though he had presided over this tragic scene, describes an angel assailing the impious Terebinthus, so as suddenly to cast him down headlong. Beausobre therefore persuades himself for certain that all these things totter, since they could have become known to no one without revelation. Furthermore, to remove these ancient prejudiced opinions against the heretics, Beausobre turns his zeal, and as it were flatters himself that he can employ wiser observations for ascertaining the truth of the matter, by resting only upon the narrative of Archelaus, which he calls simple, natural, and innocent. Of which sort the first observation is this:

Namely, that Buddas first prayed, and indeed ascended alone (he says) in order to obey the divine commands, by which it is said that when praying we should flee from the eyes and the crowd of men. The second observation regards the Manichaean rite of praying, derived from the institutions of Zoroaster, by which his followers are bidden to pray with their faces turned toward the East, imagining to themselves that the fire beheld in the sun signifies both the throne and the divine presence. Thirdly he observes that the peoples of the East were accustomed to climb onto the roofs of their houses for the sake of prayer, as is gathered concerning Peter praying at Joppa, and concerning Esther going up to the upper part of the house when she was pondering to do something in secret. Witty indeed is Beausobre!

But I by no means understand by what reason or license he strives to proclaim those three things as conformed to the sayings of the Scriptures, and as consonant with those rites which the ancient Catholics and holy men employed in their prayers. Indeed one ought to pray in secret, so as to guard against vainglory, and to procure for oneself that attention of mind which is most necessary in order that the movements and thoughts of the heart may be restrained, lest they wander outside of God. But who will judge that Buddas then set the aim of prayer before himself? Or that in that purpose he wished to obey the divine commands — who will ever pretend it?

Now the priests of the Sun were present, whom, as being his adversaries (inasmuch as he had been overcome by their disputations), he had summoned into the assembly, so that they might be present as witnesses of his sleights-of-hand. There is added, moreover, that it was the chief dogma of the Manichaeans to regard the light, and the sun itself, not as the seat and throne of the Most High God, but to adore it as the true God — as, among the other holy Fathers, the Supreme Pontiff Leo the First testified in various places, discoursing expressly about the Manichaeans caught at Rome adoring the rising sun, who turned themselves about and, with bent necks, bowed down in honor of the shining orb. That this happened partly through the fault of ignorance, partly through the spirit of paganism, the holy Father, grieving, judged, adding:

For although some perchance worship the Creator of the beautiful light rather than the light itself, which is a creature, he demonstrates in few words that the rite differs in nothing from the superstitious cult of the Gentiles, adding: Let therefore this damnable perversity be cast out from the practice of the faithful, and let not the honor due to the one God be mingled with the rites of those who are in bondage to creatures. That Leo said and wrote these things in order to draw certain Christians of the Roman Church, deceived by the depraved practices of the Manichaeans, away from such a rite of praying, the whole text of that sermon now makes clear. But that the Manichaeans, like the pagans — though led by a different principle — paid worship to the sun and the stars, will be established by innumerable arguments. We read next that Saint

Peter at Joppa about the sixth hour, not at sunrise, went up into the upper parts. But it is nowhere established that he ascended the roof of the house. And the Scripture, in speaking of the prayer of Queen Esther, testifies only that she stood in ashes and dung, humbled her body with fasts, filled with the tearing of her hair all the places in which she formerly rejoiced, and, always turned toward the Lord, said: Help me, solitary as I am, and having no other helper besides you. Where then did Pricaeus, praised by Beausobre, find that Queen Esther was accustomed to withdraw onto the flat top of her palace, perhaps to perform in secret the exercise of the Jewish religion? That indeed we gather, as it were obscurely, from the history of Daniel;

which Beausobre perhaps dissembled, lest he press the knife to his own throat. But concerning the prophet of the Lord the sacred text relates how, at three appointed hours of the day, having entered his house, and with the windows open in his upper chamber facing Jerusalem, he bent his knees and adored. And this manner of acting signifies that Daniel wished, in praying, to look toward the temple built at Jerusalem rather than toward the East. Beausobre therefore will by no reasoning be able to prevent us from judging that Saint Peter at Joppa, lodging with Simon, at the sixth hour of the day went up to the upper parts of the house, so that, with his face turned toward the Jerusalem temple, he might pray to God. 9. Yet let us pass these things by.

Which, although they carry with them a certain poison, by which the heretics gradually strive to corrupt the piety of Catholics, and to make trouble for us in those matters which pertain to the most holy rites and ceremonies of Christ — which the heterodox themselves either strive to subvert, or at least pretend that they are not derived from the institutions of the apostles and from the divine commands given from time to time, but rather depend upon the will and choice of men, and upon the usage of foreign regions and the custom of peoples;

nevertheless they are not of such moment as either to overthrow the dogmas of the true religion, or to bring them into open contempt — especially if they do not offend against the authority of the sacred pastors in prescribing ecclesiastical rites and ceremonies. It was therefore all the more grievous for us to grieve that the manifold and tortuous ingenuity of Beausobre should stir itself even in those things which are expressly handed down in the sacred writings, and that he should seek to insinuate into the minds of others his open infidelity, hedged about with many calumnies, having first set out the accustomed apparatus of vain and deceitful erudition; so that he might soothe the unwary reader (who delights in novelties rather than in piety), and bind him fast, ensnared by allurements and snares.

Of which sort indeed ought all the rest to be reckoned which he adds at the end of that chapter, as he is about to bring to its conclusion the history of the Manichaean Terebinthus, or Buddas, out of the Greek and Latin Fathers. Therefore, inquiring more subtly into the deeds of this heretic, he supposes it as probable, and sells the idea, that he was imbued with the superstitions of the Magi for this reason, because he was derived from the nation of the Babylonians, whose philosophers were accustomed to venerate the angels not as gods, but as ministers of the Divinity — being led, namely, by this persuasion, that among themselves, with a certain order preserved, they presided over the days and months of the year, just as also over the elements and over all the things which are wont to befall men in this life.

And as though the Catholic Church could have drawn from this superstition of the Babylonians and Persians the sacred rite and order both of the festal days and of the divine offices, he affirms rather boldly that those nations were accustomed to appeal to their angels as intermediaries and mediators, just as more recent Catholics, on each day of the year, make mention of some saint in their daily offices and liturgies. And he asserts that prayers of this kind are called sorceries and magic chants by the Mohammedans.

Yet after so great a store of trifles and falsehoods, the same Beausobre says that he remains held in suspense as to how the names of the angels, or the intelligences of the heavens, on account of a certain discipline of the secret, were revealed only to the elect of the Manichaeans (who far exceeded the number seven), as Turbo, presenting himself before Archelaus, the bishop of Caschara, confessed. For Augustine, who was once merely a hearer of this sect, mentions a certain amatory song, in which the Aeons are found inscribed. Wherefore it seems to me that Beausobre is not consistent with himself, who now, despising, or not noticing, those things which concerning the superstitious institutions of Terebinthus, of Buddas — that is, of the Babylonians and Persians —

which he had shortly before written, contends that the Manichaeans did not invoke the angels, although they paid honor and praise to them; and he censures Cyril for having confounded angels with demons, by demanding of the Manichaeans that they invoked the aerial demons shut up in the space between the earth and the moon. But he affirms that these are not invoked but utterly abominated, being led by the confession of Turbo, who said that Manes had commanded his followers that, having taken food, they should anoint their heads with exorcised oil, having invoked, or uttered, certain names signifying the mysteries of that false religion; the knowledge of which names he had reserved to the seven alone — that is, to the seventy elect.

This exorcised oil, then, in accordance with the Greek and Latin version, Tillemont chose to call 'bewitched.' Wherefore Beausobre, insisting upon these two words, adds: If 'exorcised' ought to be taken for 'bewitched,' what will have to be said of so many and so great rites and ceremonies of the Roman Church? And so he concludes: If therefore the Manichaeans pronounced exorcisms over the oil before they used it, it is now made known that the Manichaeans were prepossessed by the ridiculous opinion that demons can vex the elements and bodies — which opinion, since it has greatly prevailed in the Church, she uses supplications and exorcisms to expel them. 10.

Upon all these things at last we ought diligently to insist, in order to snatch away the fallacies, the false accusations, and the mockeries by which the sycophant Beausobre has dared to assail even the Catholic Church. He, then, first of all confounds the Aeons of the heretics with angels and demons — of which Aeons the architects were Simon Magus, the prince of heretics, Montanus, the Menandrians, the Saturnilians, the Cerinthians, the Carpocratians, the Valentinians, and others, derived from Mark the Egyptian; who, furnished with the sport of the ancient poets and the heathen, fabulously invented the existence and army of the Aeons, whom they then endowed at their pleasure with various names, on account of the diverse offices which in their dreaming they pretended them to discharge.

But the doctrine of the ancient heathen was far otherwise. For although they lacked the illumination of the faith, nevertheless Hesiod, first of all, recognized that between God, holding the supreme place, and men, placed in the lowest, there existed certain intervening immortal spirits, endowed with a certain reason and intelligence, whom he called demons or genii; and these we name angels. Plato, moreover, made most lucid mention of demons, and especially in the Timaeus, whom he judges to be bound to the orbs — nay rather, that the orbs themselves and the stars are, as it were, inferior gods; and after these demons he describes others propagated by generation and lowest of all.

Who, although by their nature they are dissoluble and mortal, nevertheless by the supreme will of God, which is stronger than nature, will be immortal and eternal. And he asserts that by these were animals procreated — nay, even the bodies themselves into which he himself infused human souls. Plato's interpreter Alcinous supports him, as do Ostanes the Magus, Orpheus, Thales, Pythagoras, and others, who indeed affirmed without any doubt at all that demons, or angels, exist — although concerning their nature and properties they reasoned in one way and another. As for the other system concerning the existence of the Aeons, it has hitherto appeared to all writers as a fabulous, inextricable invention.

And that these Aeons, even in the view of their very architects, have anything in common with those substances which we call angels or demons, has hitherto by no certain reasoning been ascertained. Not therefore, when Augustine made mention of that amatory song of the Manichaeans, in which the Aeons were found described, did he believe that angels or demons were indicated; but he knew perfectly well the frauds of these heretics, who feigned those false intelligences to be fixed in the stars and orbs. Who, since they were led by a superstitious persuasion that the whole life of man depends upon the affections of the stars, the elements, or the Aeons, lied that the influences of these could be rendered propitious to themselves, or at least be changed from time to time, if supplication were made to them;

namely, when, from their erratic motion or their stable permanence, they might do harm by certain malignant aspects. Our Leo the Great, in various places, harasses both the Manichaeans and the Priscillianists, the defenders of these lies, thus rebuking them: But what is the sun, or what is the moon, but visible creatures, and elements of corporeal light? Of which the one is of greater brightness, and the other of lesser light. Then, distinguishing the times of day from those of night, he persuades that diverse qualities, not grades of life, are in them, since before the luminaries and stars were made, three days without the course of the sun, and nights without the ministry of the moon and the stars, had gone before.

Why, then, on the fourth day the Creator of all things established these, he indicates by the following words. Namely, that they might be for the utility of men: that the rational animal might be deceived neither in the distinction of months, nor in the return of years, nor in the numbering of times; since, through the unequal delays of unequal hours and the manifest signs of dissimilar risings, the sun would conclude the years and the moon renew the months. 11.

But if it were now permitted me to dwell longer in weighing the superstitions of the ancient Babylonian and Persian philosophers, who contended that at each hour, day, and month of the years, various conjunctions of the Aeons were fixed, upon which they lyingly said the fates of men depend, and whom they then besought to aid and be propitious to them, I could now more easily demonstrate that these have no likeness or affinity at all with our rites. For who persuades himself that Belial agrees with God, and that an idol has any affinity or likeness with the truth? For an idol is a pure and mere fiction, invented indeed out of falsehood to deceive rational substances.

Therefore if, on the authority of Leo, that most wise interpreter of the divine Scriptures, it was brought about by the divine omnipotence that, for our benefit, the stars and the other signs of the heavenly host — lacking sense and life — should, with the order of days, months, and years preserved (which order the sacred writings of the Old Testament above all expressed), distinguish the successions of the times; then one ought to praise the divine power and providence alone, which willed to establish such signs for our knowledge, instruction, and benefit.

For the rest, since the aspirations of the heavens, the changes of the air, the ascents, descents, courses, degrees, retrogradations, risings, and settings of the stars or the Aeons are brought about altogether by necessity, and are derived from a dead nature — what praise, what honor, or what worship can reasonably be paid to them? Nothing therefore is more superstitious, nothing more contrary to the truth, than the vain and deceitful philosophy both of the heathen and of the ancient heretics, by which, when they beheld the marvelous things happening in the world, they assigned them to the affections of the Aeons. And therefore, having devised various names to invoke them, they foolishly judged that even in sacred mysteries these could be rendered propitious to themselves.

Just as, concerning Montanus and the Cataphrygians, the authors of heresies, Augustine among others wrote; who, in place of the sacred expiation and regeneration of baptism, washed their followers with an unclean laver, reciting the names of as many Aeons as they dreamed to be contained in the entire circle of the year. That this man, Montanus namely, devised eight hundred and seventy Aeons, each of which he called by its own proper name, we understand from the Synodical booklet. But the institution of Catholic rites and feasts — what affinity and likeness can it have with these fabulous fictions?

Does not the Catholic Church, in distributing the order of feasts, in reciting the offices and liturgies — with regard had to the diversity of times and the dignity of the mysteries which ought to be celebrated with solemn worship on account of their divine institution — pay praises to God, the best and greatest? Indeed, Catholics render the worship of servitude to God alone in offices, liturgies, and the rest, in supplications both public and private, and to Him they direct their prayers, voices, and hearts. Whence, then, does Beausobre gather that the daily rites of the Catholics' religion can in certain respects be compared with the superstitious ceremonies of the Babylonians, Persians, and Magi?

But perhaps he will judge that the likeness, or affinity, consists in this, that the Roman Church has consecrated certain anniversary feasts to certain days of the times, which she then commanded to be observed with holier rites and ceremonies? Or because, on each day of the year, at the recurrence of the birthday of some man most renowned for sanctity, doctrine, martyrdom, or virginity, she has been accustomed to recall to the minds of the faithful the more distinguished and approved deeds of their virtues, both to render praise to God, and to stir up in them the zeal of imitation?

In these things, therefore, it is most certain that nothing at all can be found which corresponds to the superstitious solemnities and fabulous rites of the Persians, Babylonians, and Magi employed in the worship of the Aeons and the stars. Wherefore, if I now had to deal with some man other than Beausobre — a Gentile by profession, namely, an atheist, or an Epicurean, who rested neither upon the sacred Scriptures nor upon the divine commands — I would certainly appeal only to reasons borrowed from the light of nature, in order to explain the sanctity, dignity, and excellence of the rites of the Roman Church.

But since this business pertains to a Christian man, though a non-Catholic — who, besides the authority of the Scriptures of the Old Testament, in which clear mention is made of these and those appointed solemnities and institutions of the year, must also admit the evangelical commands of the New Testament; and at the same time must profess all those mysteries which pertain to the conception, nativity, circumcision, miracles, passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and others of the like kind:

therefore I understand that Beausobre wished to play a most foolish part in recounting these things, who, luxuriating in the fables of the Persians and Babylonians, strove with the whole thrust of his effort to delude and to throw dust in the eyes of unskilled and overly credulous readers who do not think piously and wisely concerning the Roman Church. 12. And (that I may return to the rest) does not the same Beausobre remember that in the sacred evangelical sayings the demons are also called angels? For those spirits who, falling with the devil through pride from the divine grace, were condemned to the tortures of eternal fire, Christ, in Matthew, calls angels; and the Scriptures themselves, in other places, indicate the evil angels by the name of demons.

It is no wonder, therefore, if Cyril affirms that Terebinthus, or Buddas, summoned aerial demons for his protection. Whose testimony nevertheless coheres also with the confession of Turbo, who, about to execrate the rites of the Manichaeans, said that these, after taking food and drink, were accustomed to anoint their heads with exorcised oil. For by the name 'exorcised' one ought to understand oil magically bewitched; which, namely, the necromancers are wont to use in summoning evil spirits to their aid, from whom they obtain help when, through sleights-of-hand, they attempt to do something against the order of nature. Not therefore could it be turned into a charge against Tillemont, a learned man, that he wished to interpret 'exorcised' as 'bewitched.'

For the writer of the Ecclesiastical History knows well that the ancient Magi were accustomed to employ wax tapers, lamps, water, oil, and other bewitched things, not to expel, but to summon spirits, so that from these they might obtain protection and help, and gain foreknowledge of things to come. Concerning a similar art of the Magi, on the authority of Pliny, Ostanes spoke, who, describing its various kinds, said that from water, from spheres, from air, from stars, lamps, and basins, and axes, and in many other ways, they promised divine revelations. Wherefore it is probable enough that the Manichaeans, most skilled in this art, wished to use oil profaned by incantations to summon malignant spirits.

Finally, we judge that that word which we meet in the confession of Turbo — 'exorcised,' namely — in no way contradicts Tillemont's interpretation. For Turbo had to use the form of speech which Manes, whose deeds he recounts, employed — who perhaps called sacred and natural things profaned by nefarious rites 'exorcisms,' as we shall see more clearly in its place. In these matters, then, thus laid open and explained, everyone will judge it superfluous to labor further, since there remain to be snatched away those things of greater weight, by which he either affirms that exorcisms are worthy to be made sport of with mockeries, or that it can never be persuaded to him that malignant spirits, or demons, have the power of vexing the elements and bodies. Why so?