文集 第 3 章

TO POPE LEO. We have obeyed the admonitions, following your sweet commands, O bishop of Christ, which you gave with godly mouth. Should I not sing the praises of so great a father, while there is yet a tongue to me, a gift and work of God? Hoarse indeed and grating, and worthy of no buskins, and a lowly talent: yet it pleases me to speak of lofty things. It is a worthy and just work always to give thanks to You, almighty Begetter of the world, at whose lordship all things took their day, and, suddenly arising after the darkness, the lights of heaven gazed in amazement: the race of men and the wild beasts and the thousand birds, and the throngs that course through the watery plains, all things through Yourself, from You, who fashion the greatest things: from You born, O Father; nor is there another father of the Father.

You are head to the head, You the origin of the first fountain, the first summit of things, the first sower, fashioning all; nor yet do You draw Your lineage from another: You Yourself the everlasting Spirit, living through the ages by Your ancient motion. You shall always be, because You always were: not in need of death, who are without a birth-day, nor have You known an end of age. To whom it fell to have His beginning from Himself, no other Author of His chance abides: it is for things being born that an end presses on. When black chaos covered all things, and the formless lofty mass pressed down from above upon the bodies of the world, and weighed them down with murky belated death, and there was neither species nor form, You, God, were at work within, mingled with the covered bodies, a hidden power, even then disposing the rising ramparts of the new-born world, and the varied faces of things, and the souls to come.

And when, the darkness of night vanquished, You brought forth Your head, raising aloft Your sublime countenance, the shadows felt it. Soon the Lord of things shook off the sluggish slumbers, and the sluggish matter trembled, smitten and driven by Your name, and at once stirred, conscious of its ripe birth. The body of the huge heap is cleft through its very many members, and at once the seeds mark out their places at command, and the confused entrails of the mass descend together. Cut into parts, vainly regarding their forms, now the heat within nourishes them and rouses them with kindly fire. And first the open book of heaven, embracing all the spaces of the world, is hung upon a lofty orb: the heavy earth descends with sluggish weight to the lowest place, and, fixed in itself, founded upon the sea, settled down, that there might be an open span of empty region, where the tender ether, advancing, might nourish mortal things.

Or whither so many gifts of the Father's works could go forth, and, once arisen, might be borne through the void with no toil. The diffused waters are gathered together: soon at a fixed boundary the seas flow, nor does the wave overleap its limit. Then arises the kindly light, which, bidden to be called day, suffused the new-born world with tender light, displaying Your gift and work, Your greatest boons, which You, Begetter, were preparing to found with fatherly love. And so that the skilful life of men might grow bright, by the heavenly arts which rejoice to draw out whole days and to wear down the mind with diverse merit. There follows the black night after the day, and dense shadows, which might bring slumbers to bodies, repose to the weary, and one face and like figure to all things. For day variously distinguishes the faces of things and gives to each its own colour, the night being scattered.

It rouses spirits warm for greater works, sharpening mortal breasts with varied cares; wherefore the more is day the form of life, the night the image of death. Then the Father, founding the stars in the sky and scattering the lights, distinguishing the constellations clothed in varied figures, the rosy Morning-star rises and Evening bright of face: Aurora scatters her crimson tresses. The Serpent drives the clear weather, the Pleiades bring rains; there are the Wains, there the Plough-wagons, the Crowns gleaming with flower, and the signs that roll the year in twice-six shapes, and besides these the many ornaments of the lofty house, with which signs He props up the age, and the royal painted vault of the Most High gleams with the varied light of the stars. But the sun has greater light in it, which You, Begetter, deign with bounteous gift to adorn and honour fully.

That fiery one lifts its radiance from its lofty summit; ruddy with open face, it is borne through the ramparts of heaven, leader of the stars, vigour of the world and of the elements. Behold another marvel — a marvel and glory, O! — the new moon changes its course; the fires it loses it gathers again, and, quenching its horns, it troubles its brow with light; yet soon it kindles, the circle filled out into a full orb, and the night-shining light feeds the sown stars with its light: these things, however, which this engine of the eternal sky rolls round, are not only the painting of the heaven, nor a lofty caprice: mind and reason underlie them, and an order useful for things.

Hence comes teaching to the lands, hence finally counsel to all the husbandmen and those who roam the deep seas, so that, wherever they make their way, they may foretell the lights, may know the rains to come and the dry fair weather, the time when the ploughman should lead the bulls into the fields and the sailor, secure, should venture upon the doubtful sea. Having set the fires in the sky, best Father, You undertake to cultivate the lands and endow them with a rich gift, the realms of men, the hearth of the beasts and the rest of the birds. The plains grow level, the steep swelling raises up the hills; the valleys sink down, the flowering meadows grow green and the rocks are hardened, the rich clod loosens itself, the springs burst forth, whence is the lofty kind of rivers; the varied grasses of the herbs rise up in the fields. And now the crop poured forth its fruit from the tender ear.

When there were no yokes, nor any ploughshare for the plough, no bull bellowed in the broken-up fields. Behold too the vine, now full with the moist cluster, as yet free of the pruning-hook and ignorant of the hard iron, was weaving vine-leaf shades on the lofty hills. The diverse form of varied wild beasts arises; the four-footed creatures, and also the things creeping upon the earth, are born, and the birds through the clouds with painted wings. When these were finished, the Begetter, the world now rich, sees that all things demand the care of a great king, who should govern the sea, the lands, and all that is born, and who should look upon lofty heaven and powerfully praise the great gifts of God, lest these be founded in vain: then 'Let Us make,' You say, 'man.' Tell, best One, with whom do You converse? It is clear:

Even then Your Son sits beside You on the high throne and looks upon the friendly lands. But 'Let Us make,' You say, 'man, whose face shall be our image, and let him by My hands go forth into the age.' Thence, Fashioner of things, You take up the soft parts of the earth and form the man, from whose rib, with the desired countenance, woman is made: woman is made from the man's rib, that she might be the more dear to the man and fitted to her husband's side. O happy creature, whose father is the right hand of the most high Thunderer; O all too happy, who lead from Olympus both your race and form; if the harmful vices of the earth do not deceive you, nor flattering error overthrow you, you shall be a divine being and, returning to heaven, shall marvel at the realms which the Father, with faithful mouth, sets forth as promised to the good. For God conferred many things upon you unbidden at your birth:

First an ethereal face and a fatherly countenance, and an upright gait of the feet, a sublime neck, that there might be no delay for the eyes gazing up into heaven; then nimble and ready hands, ministers of life, and as a home for the divine breast, reason and the seat of lofty counsel, the honour of eloquent voice. These things were granted to man alone: for the rest the dumb herd obtained — the belly, the vitals, the sinews, the streams of veins and the blood scattered through the body, and the sense of right and left alike, and of pain. But You truly, almighty, lavish with a special gift toward man and bestowing upon Your hands and the favour of Your work, with fatherly devotion cherishing the pledge.

Lest anything be lacking to the divine countenances, You breathe in the fire of ether and indulge a rich portion of holy mind, mingled with the whole body. Hence it is permitted to remember things of old, hence it is given to know things present, and it is lawful for the soul to see things to come; hence we speak and sing of God, hence all the stars and the cultivation of lands flourish, and the sea is moved; hence the arts and name, modesty, prudence, justice; hence brave souls arise, hence the honourable proceeds, and the way which leads the chaste to the threshold of heaven. Therefore man, perfected with full gift, You set, Begetter, over the lands, and hand over to him the reins of things: let him have all things and subject them to himself, let him be in the stead of a begetter: lord of the earth, Your servant, let him possess all things of the world, only let him serve You alone as Lord.

After the first man did not fear to feed on the forbidden tree, and, caught by guiles, offered himself to the serpent, he stands guilty. And, naked, with downcast eye imploring a garment, he flees the Lord and hides his face. Guilt follows as companion, and life, liable to sin, weakens the powers; the gifts coming from heaven, the fire sent down from the ether, gradually fail; the hearts, numb with the cold of sin, grow stiff: the care of food and of the belly creeps in, and the care of clothing the body, and mortal cares enter the sacred breast. Hence is born the offspring of sin; thence sprouts a far worse progeny, and a generation worse than the former follows, growing toward crimes by degrees — crimes which sharpen demented hearts with goads, and which, unbidden, arm You, Father, with varied terrors.

Then first the winds began to bear down upon the lands, the untimely rain to descend from the clouds: then first the thunderbolts cast down from a clear sky, then the dread hail lashes the troubled fields, the broken ether mutters with high-sounding thunder. Yet these things do not recall the wicked: impious fury besieges the world, and madness is borne along with loosened reins. Wars please, and slaughters likewise, perjuries, frauds; to lie is a delight, to plunder is love, to hide stolen things: no faith among the peoples, no truth is anywhere now. By a flood and by waves the crime of the lands is washed away, and one man remains, the restorer of the race and people; and one man, through whom many are reborn with the light given; the ark covers a few, preserving the seeds of the encampments. Even then was shown the face of the laver to come.

The Church, preserving with faithful childbearing those it has received. After the swelling of the flood subsided, the wave settled down, the bird bore the leaf of the peace-bringing olive; now flying back on dry wings it gave the omens of peace. Then a better people rises, then a purer race of men from the waves, destined to bring forth great grandsons for the lands. Thence the hearts of the priest are given over to heaven; hence amid the flames the youths ready to sing, and the boy whom the unfed lions did not touch; then kings sang of God, then true mouths sound for the prophets, gleaming with heaven's offspring, splendid to the lands. Although all things served God, the crime being conquered, yet still a drop of the ancient venom sprinkled the peoples, and there were traces of the fraud, which the good Teacher would wash away with better waters.