駁歐諾米 第 1 章 第 1/4 段

If all those upon whom the name of our God and Savior Jesus Christ has been invoked were willing to attempt nothing against the truth of the Gospel, but to be content with the tradition of the apostles and the simplicity of the faith, there would be no need for any words from us at present; rather, even now we would gladly embrace the silence which from the beginning we have prized.

But since the enemy of truth, ever multiplying evil by additions, has now—on top of the tares he sowed in the Church of God from the beginning—found instruments that readily receive his whole craft, and through them introduces, under the guise of Christianity, the denial of the divinity of the Only-Begotten, confounding by this external and vain wisdom the pure and simple teaching of the divine Spirit, and deceiving the more guileless by plausible argument,

we too, of necessity—both out of love for you who have laid this charge upon us, and for our own security—have set aside our weakness in this matter; and though entirely untrained in this kind of discourse, yet according to the measure of knowledge granted us by the Lord, we have undertaken both to stand with the truth and to refute the lie.

We are persuaded that of three good outcomes we shall at least not fail to attain one:

either we shall provide, to those already deceived, in this refutation a remedy against the evil;

or we shall afford some measure of protection to those who are sound in faith;

or at the very least we ourselves shall obtain the reward due to those who choose what is best for their brethren.

Now the first who dared openly to say and to teach that the Only-Begotten Son is unlike the God and Father according to essence—so far as we know—was Aëtius the Syrian; and I will not say with what pursuits he was from the beginning corrupted, when he came forward and brought ruin into the churches of God—lest I seem to be reviling rather than refuting.

But the one who took up this impiety and brought it to completion is this Eunomius the Galatian; who, gaining his renown from the most shameful things (for, as it is said, "their glory is in their shame"), preferred the vainglory of writing what no one else has ever dared, above the good things laid up for the godly, and so was lifted up to publish in this brilliant treatise the blasphemy that was hitherto muttered under the breath—being ambitious to be proclaimed the founder and ringleader of a whole heresy.

It is he, then, whom we propose to call to account in the present work.

And since the evil is one and the same in both, it is clear that in the refutation of the perfected disciple the teacher also—who laid down the seeds of impiety—will be refuted along with him;

if indeed it be granted us, through your prayers, to receive so great a power of speech that, like Phinehas the zealot, with the single blow of refutation we may strike down at once both who are bound together against godliness.

Now though I have much to show, in this treatise, that he is a liar, ignorant, insolent, dissembling, and blasphemous, I shall pass over the mention of the others in passing; but the blasphemy which he has uttered against the height of the glory of the Only-Begotten I shall strive, having stripped it of the disguises of his craft, to make manifest to all.

And now I shall proceed to the refutations, making my beginning from the very title.

For first of all, this form of discourse has been contrived by him as a piece of villainy, in that he composed his teaching in the guise of an apology, so that he might not seem to be primarily setting forth the exposition of the doctrines

of impiety, but rather to have come to these words of necessity.

For he wished by every means to spread abroad this wicked and godless proclamation, and to bring into the open the blasphemy which he had long conceived and was in travail with;

but he saw that to take the seat of a teacher openly, besides being exceedingly burdensome and offensive to his hearers, would also render himself implausible and suspect to the many, as one who had come to innovate out of desire for glory;

whereas if he framed his words under the fiction of an apology, he would both escape the suspicion of innovation and the more readily draw his hearers to himself, since by nature all men are wont to give their goodwill to those who are at a disadvantage.

For this reason he accuses certain men of being accusers and slanderers, and lays upon them the cause of his discourse.

But that his craft may become evident to all, it is no bad thing to hear the very preface of his text.

{EUNOMIUS.} "To slander and to malign certain persons out of an unbridled tongue and an unjust mind, we know to be the work of base and quarrelsome men;

but that those who through slander have been thought to be wicked should with all eagerness strive to turn aside the falsehood by refutations, this is the part of prudent men, who together with their own good counsel make much of the security of the many."

{BASIL.} The form of his discourse, then, is just such as would come from one who does nothing simply or without guile.

For he shadows over the suspicion attaching to his innovation with the cloak of apology, and he hunts for goodwill from his hearers, as though by the compulsion of slander he had come to these words.

But the pretense of his apology is exposed by the fact that, having no accuser to name for the charge over which he pretends to contend, he slips into the drama of an apology without any person facing him;

not refraining from naming by name those who had grieved him out of magnanimity (for how could that be, seeing that he washes his opponents with such abundant abuse?), but rather, suspecting the conspicuousness of his falsehood, he is ashamed to ascribe to himself any definite persons as accusers.

For if he had any to name, he would certainly have named them and proclaimed it abroad;

even if not to satisfy his own anger, yet at least to provide for the security of the many—

for which very thing he professes to make particular provision.

For a hidden wickedness is more harmful than one already proclaimed.

So that, if we had known the slanderers, we should the more easily have escaped their unbridled tongues and their unjust minds;

for I shall use the very words of this most wise fellow.

But since at that time, for whatever reason, he kept silent, now let him be questioned, now let him answer:

Who were the accusers who, by anticipating with their slanders, made his apology necessary? From what inhabited land did they come? Who were the judges before whom he conducts his case? In what tribunal did he undertake this writing? Where on earth or sea was it convened? For what could they even say? At Seleucia? But they were convicted by their silence—they who, though those assembled often summoned them to give account for the charges brought, did not appear;

for which very things they were then also condemned.

For my argument is common against the whole faction at once—that faction which, by reason of its fellowship in impiety, has been torn away like some diseased member from the healthy body of the Church.

But was it at Constantinople? But there was no need there of apology and words.

For having made their own the men of the imperial court, and of the rest those most able to do anything, they dealt with affairs from a position of great superiority;

being themselves accusers, judges, executioners, and everything they wished—when, casting out some of the bishops, installing others, and holding over yet others the danger to their very lives, they parcelled out the cities among themselves at their own great pleasure;

and one of them, expelled from one of the cities of Syria, seized upon Constantinople as upon a tyranny;

while this very man himself, the invincible and

formidable speech-writer, carried off Cyzicus as the prize of his impiety;

and to Theosebius, after his refutations for unspeakable blasphemies, the Church of Sardis was offered up as a draught.

And I pass over in silence the Bithynians, the Paphlagonians, the Cilicians, and all whom this evil, carried round in a circle, fed upon.

What occasion, then, was there still for apology at that time? But, I think, it would not even have been possible to lie, though he wished it.

So that it is truer than anything that the form of his discourse is for him a device toward deception.

And let this much suffice on these matters.

But he, going on a little, look what he writes!

"For it is perhaps not without use, before the refutations of the impiety, to disclose a little of the conceit that is about him."

{EUNOMIUS.} "I ask you above all, both those who now hear and those who will later read, not to be willing to distinguish truth from falsehood by the multitude, joining the better to the larger part;

nor yet, by giving heed to ranks and dignities, to let your understanding be darkened, or, by assigning more to the order of those who came before, to stop up your ears against those who come after."

{BASIL.} What are you saying? That we should not assign more to those who came before? That we should not revere the multitude both of the Christians now living and of all who have existed since the Gospel was proclaimed? That we should not reckon the dignity of those who have shone in spiritual gifts of every kind—to all of whom you have made this wicked road of impiety hostile and inimical by your innovation? But that, shutting altogether the eyes of the soul, and banishing from our minds the memory of every saint, each of us should bring his own heart, idle and swept clean, and submit it to your perversions and sophistries? Truly you would be possessed of great power, if you should obtain by command what the devil, with all his manifold devices, did not attain;

that is, if, persuaded by you, we should judge the tradition that has prevailed throughout all past time under so many saints to be less honorable than your impious contrivance.

But it does not suffice for him merely to undermine the reasonings of those who now hear; he demands also that those who shall ever later associate with his treatise should hold the same opinion;

thinking that his discourse will suffice even for later times, and that his memory will be preserved immortal into the time to come.

And these things he now arrogantly asserts—he who a little later puts on airs before his hearers as though caring nothing for any conceit, speaking thus to the judges in his drama:

{EUNOMIUS.} "Besides these things, do not be vexed with us if, having disregarded conceit and fear, and having preferred to present favor and safety the freedom from anxiety on behalf of things to come, and having judged the threat appointed against the impious to be more fearful than every earthly affliction and than a temporary death, we set forth the truth bare of every covering."

{BASIL.} What height of boasting does this swelling of words not surpass? And added to the dissembling is also insolence against those who judge;

if indeed, by reason of being ill-disposed toward good things, they are scarcely restrained from being vexed at one who disregards self-will and conceit, who prefers to present safety the freedom from anxiety on behalf of things to come, and who judges the punishment hereafter to be more fearful than a temporary death.

But what is this? "Do not be vexed with me, O men, for having ascended to the very summit of virtue, and having transcended earthly things, and having transferred my whole citizenship to heaven."

This is a novel manner of boasting.

For through the very words by which he pretends to disregard conceit, he exalts himself to the utmost arrogance.

For if the things in which he professes to act in a way deserving of pardon are the chief points of the evangelical way of life, he lets us infer what sort of man he thought himself to be in things rightly accomplished.

These things, then, as bearing, so to speak, the character of his whole disposition, have been said sufficiently, though many have been passed over in silence—so that by the things in which he lied we may recognize the father of lies speaking in him,

and from his boastings we may be taught with whom he has been condemned together, the Apostle clearly saying that one puffed up falls into the

judgment of the devil.

But for the rest, let us come to the refutations of the impiety themselves.

He first sets forth a confession of faith composed of simple and undefined expressions, such as some of the Fathers also used—not aiming at the questions under dispute, but speaking thus simply, by themselves, in simplicity of heart.

And even if Arius, as they say, devising sophistry against Alexander, put this confession forward to him (for this too they say), nevertheless he both puts it forward as agreeing with his own opinion for two pretexts:

one, that he might escape the suspicion of innovation, in accepting the faith of the Fathers as being rightly held;

the other, that all might fall unawares into the snares of his sophistries, having trusted in the simplicity of these words.

And at the same time he perceived also this: that it would be open to him, under fair appearance, to smuggle in his own opinion, while supposedly expounding the words of the Fathers, and best of all to slip past unnoticed in his impieties;

and if after all he should be detected, he would seem to be blameless, as saying nothing from himself or of his own, but having become the interpreter of another's mind.

Yet in this very thing he suffered something most ridiculous without perceiving it.

For having praised it much and greatly, going on a little, he again surrounds it with the most shameful reproaches.

But that what I say may become clearer, having divided his discourse into parts, I shall examine it.

And first let us learn the faith which he puts forward, setting down his very own words.

{EUNOMIUS.} "Having set forth beforehand, as a kind of standard and rule, the godly tradition that has prevailed from above from the Fathers, let us use this as an exact criterion for the judgment of the things said."

{BASIL.} To these words he appends the faith, which runs thus:

{EUNOMIUS.} "We believe in one God the Father almighty, from whom are all things;

and in one only-begotten Son of God, God the Word, our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom are all things;

and in one Holy Spirit, the Paraclete."

{BASIL.} Then immediately he adds:

{EUNOMIUS.} "The simpler faith, then, common to all who are concerned to seem or to be Christians, is this—to speak, as in a running survey, in the most summary fashion."

{BASIL.} Now concerning the contradiction in what he has said, and the shameless conflict of his statements with one another, we shall speak a little later.

But first let us remind ourselves of this: that this is the man who, in the foregoing words, very pompously professed to us that he would set forth the truth bare of every covering.

Here, then, somewhere it ought to have been written:

"We believe that unbegottenness is the essence of the God of all," or, "We believe that the Only-Begotten is unlike the Father according to essence."

For these things he would have written, if indeed, as he promised, he had shadowed his own mind with no deceitful veil.

But, I think, using all his words treacherously, he keeps silent about the things from himself, lest, assailing untrained ears, he should render himself implausible and hard to accept;

and he puts forward the faith of the Fathers, which, on account of the middle-ground character of the expressions in it, was likely neither to present any contradiction to the whole structure of his argument, nor to fail to follow readily when he transferred the discourse, in the guise of exposition, to the things he had purposed.

And that these things are true is clear from the matter itself.

For having set it forth, he immediately leaps upon the exposition, using among other pretexts also this: that it does not suffice for the dissolution of the charge.

Why, then, did you put it forward, instead of coming straightway to those words which both had exactness and were going to deliver you from the charges? But now it is set forward as a sure criterion, and then again it is corrected, as having nothing sound.

But this is plain to everyone: that, as with a hook drawing toward death, he surrounds his own opinion with the simplicity of the faith, as with a kind of bait, so that the more inexperienced, running to what appears, may be pierced unguarded by the evil of impiety.

And lest he should seem to undertake the correction of the faith without necessity—that faith which he himself had glorified with extravagant praises—this faith, as though forgetting his own words,

{EUNOMIUS.} "The simpler and common faith of all who are concerned to seem or to be Christians is, to speak as in a running survey, most summarily, this."

{BASIL.} Tell me: is the godly tradition of the Fathers, and the rule, as you yourself named it, and the standard, and the sure criterion, now again called an instrument of deceit, and a contrivance of disguise, and the like? For if it does not fit those who are truly Christians, but those who have honored the seeming above the being, what else ought one to suppose about it than these things? Who, then, unless utterly raving, would say that the rule of the straight fits those perverted in soul, and the standard of truth fits the enemies of truth? For those who have honored being called Christians above truly being so, putting on this disguise for the deception of the many, are far from all straightness and truth.

Neither, therefore, will the crooked be straightened, as though by an ecclesiastical rule, nor will the criteria of truth fit those who have chosen the lie as their manner of life—which is what seems good to this man.

But for the reasons I have stated, he was carried into such manifest contradictions: so that by the things in which he praises the faith he might seem to share with the Fathers in godliness, and by the things in which again he finds fault with it he might open up for himself the road to his exposition.

For this reason he both calls the same thing a rule, and says that it needs a more exact addition.

But let this very thing be a sign of the utmost ignorance, if it be agreeable to anyone to scrutinize this also.

For a rule, O most wise one, and a standard, so long as it lacks nothing of being a rule and standard, admits of no addition toward exactness.

For the addition is according to a deficiency.

But being incomplete, they would no longer soundly even attain to these appellations.

And let this much suffice on these matters.

But now let us examine also the words which he sets forth concerning God.

{EUNOMIUS.} "One, then," he says, "both according to natural notion and according to the teaching of the Fathers, is confessed by us to be God, who has come into being neither from himself nor from another."

"For each of these is equally impossible, since indeed it must, according to truth, that the maker pre-exist what comes to be, and that what is made be second to the maker."

"And it can be neither prior nor posterior to itself, nor can anything else be prior to God."

"For that thing would then have had the dignity of deity prior to the second."

{BASIL.} For what reason, then, have I set down this whole text of his? In order that the babbling of the man, which he employs throughout the entire discourse, may become evident.

For having himself said that it is plain to the common notions of all that God is unbegotten, he undertakes to bring us proofs of this, doing something very like as if one should, at high noon, wish to teach by argument those whose sight is sound that the sun is the brightest of the stars in heaven.

But if he who demonstrates by argument the things known by sense-perception is ridiculous, how is he who teaches the things agreed upon by the common preconceptions not liable to the same madness? For surely these things are, to the sober-minded, far more trustworthy than the things appearing through sight.

If, then, there were someone shameless against this truth, and contending that the unbegotten had been begotten either from himself or from another, the vanity of his statements might perhaps have had some excuse;

but if no one to this day, neither of those outside our doctrine, nor of those from the Church itself who have risen up against the truth, has come to such a pitch of madness as to dispute about the unbegottenness of the unbegotten,

what gain there is from these words, I do not see.

Or did we really need the syllogisms of Aristotle and Chrysippus in order to learn that the unbegotten has not been begotten, neither by himself nor by another; and that he is neither older nor younger than himself? What, then, do these things mean for him? It seems to me that he is at once preening himself on his logical sequences, as one dense and superfluous in intellect, sharp to spy out the absurdity and sharper to resolve what is detected, and on this account he plumes himself on his turn of phrase,

and on splitting hairs about the demonstration that the unbegotten has been begotten neither by himself nor by another.

Then, however, not even here does he forget his own craft;

but in his lingering over the things agreed upon, he interposes for himself, as it were certain elements, toward the arguments that follow.

For that point is not idly placed by him: that it is necessary, according to truth, that the maker pre-exist what comes to be.

But in order that he might have it pre-agreed upon, in the arguments concerning the Son, that the Son came to be added later to the Father—if indeed the maker is older than what comes to be—

and that he might take, as following upon this, that the Son has been begotten from things that are not.

But let the refutation of the impiety against the Son await its proper place.

But for my part, even the appellation "unbegotten," though it should seem in the highest degree to agree with our notions, yet since it is nowhere set down in Scripture, and is the first element of their blasphemy, I would say it is justly worthy to be passed over in silence—seeing that the name "Father" has the same force as "unbegotten," while besides it also introduces, conjointly with itself through the relation, the notion concerning the Son.

For he who is truly Father, and alone, is from no other;

and "from no other" is the same as "unbegotten."

We ought not, then, to call him "unbegotten" rather than "Father," if indeed we are not to be wiser than the teachings of the Savior, who said:

"Go and baptize into the name of the Father"—but not "of the unbegotten."

And let this much suffice on these matters.

But let us examine the continuation of the argument.

For going on a little, and as it were summarizing for himself what has been said, he writes thus:

{EUNOMIUS.} "If, then, it has been shown that neither is he prior to himself, nor does any other thing pre-exist him, but he is prior to all, then unbegottenness follows upon him;

or rather, he himself is unbegotten essence."

{BASIL.} Now the villainy which we have detected in these words is, I think, very easy to perceive for anyone who attends to it even a little, but not easy to make evident to the many.

Nevertheless we must attempt it, placing our hope upon the teacher.

Having said that, if neither is he prior to himself, nor does any other thing pre-exist him, unbegottenness follows upon him;

then perceiving that, by the sequence of what had been posited, his argument had come round to the opposite of what he wished (for if unbegottenness follows upon God, it plainly attends him from outside,

and that which is from outside God is not his essence,

and from these things his contrivance would slip away and perish)—then, in order that he might not suffer this, what does he do? Caring little for the laughter which he was about to incur for saying inconsistent things, by the "correction" he diverted the argument to the things he wished, saying:

"or rather, he himself is unbegotten essence."

But this has no agreement with what precedes;

for how does God both have unbegottenness following upon him, and again not following but contained in the account of his essence? Nevertheless he does not allow his sophism to be utterly destroyed.

For if, having said that unbegottenness follows upon him, he had stopped the argument there, he would have had no way either to say that unbegottenness is the essence of the God of all, or to demonstrate the Only-Begotten Son to be alien according to that very essence—since none of the things that follow from outside is able to separate the kinship, according to that very essence, of Father and Son.

But now, by adding "or rather, he himself is unbegotten essence," he made evident that that very thing which God is, is unbegottenness;

and how great a running-start this prepares for him toward the undertaking of impiety, I shall show by going on a little in the argument.

Now what he said at the beginning appeared from the truth of the facts, according to the consequence of what had been granted;

but what he added at the end was flung in from the heretic's own mind, when this speech-writer, most shamelessly of all, leapt over to the "correction" of the argument.

For how can the same thing both follow upon God and be identical with him, when it is plain to all that what follows is other than that of which it is the consequent? But he, as though laying hold of some path, from the argument which he had snatched away for himself by sleight, advances from there to the

construction that unbegottenness is the essence of the God of all, so that, this being shown, he might have it as agreed that the Only-Begotten is unlike the Father according to essence.

{EUNOMIUS.} "But in calling him unbegotten, we think we ought not to glorify him in name only, according to human conception, but to pay to God the most necessary debt of all—the confession that he is what he is."

"For the things said according to conception, having their being in names only and in utterance, are by nature dissolved together with the sounds."

{BASIL.} He does away with unbegottenness being contemplated according to conception in the case of God, thinking that from this his undertaking—to make unbegottenness the essence of God—would be easy for him;

and that from this he would show, beyond all dispute, that the Only-Begotten Son is unlike the Father according to that very essence.

For this reason he fastens upon the word "conception," as though it signified nothing at all, but possessed its subsistence in utterance alone;

and he pretends that it is unworthy of God to glorify him by conceptions.

But I, for my part, do not yet positively assert whether the unbegotten is or is not contemplated by conception, until we be taught by the very examination of the argument.

But this very thing—what conception ever is—I would gladly ask him:

does this name signify nothing whatsoever, and is it merely a noise falling out through the tongue? But such a thing would not be "conception," but rather should be called "misconception" and idle chatter.

But if he should concede that conception signifies something, yet that this is wholly false and non-existent—as in fables the fabrications of certain centaurs and chimaeras—how is the thing signified, being false, made to vanish together with the noise of the tongue, when the voice is wholly poured out into the air, while the false notions remain abiding in the understanding? For not even when the soul, filled with utterly false and empty fabrications—whether in the imaginings of sleep, or otherwise in the vain movements of the mind—has retained them in memory, and then chooses to announce them through the voice, are the phantasms made to vanish together with the spoken word.

For it would be a thing of great worth to speak falsehoods, if indeed the nature of falsehood were destroyed together with the things spoken;

but this is not in the nature of things.

It would remain, then, to show how common usage, and in what sort of matters, employs conception;

and how the divine oracles have received its use.

We see, then, that in common usage those things which by the sudden impressions of the mind seem to be simple and single, but in detailed examinations appear manifold, and these things being divided in many ways by the mind, are said to be divisible by conception alone.

For instance, the first encounter says that a body is simple, but the argument, on going over it, shows it to be manifold, dissolving it by conception into the things of which it is composed—color, and shape, and resistance, and magnitude, and the rest.