導師 第 1 章 第 8/15 段

for thus would his laughter be less ridiculous.

And the smile too must be disciplined: if it be over shameful things, we should appear blushing rather than smiling, lest we seem through fellow-feeling to take pleasure with them; and if over grievous things, it is fitting to be seen rather downcast than appearing to gloat;

for the former is a token of human consideration, but the latter indicates a suspicion of cruelty.

For one must neither laugh always—for that is immoderate—nor in the presence of elders or others worthy of reverence, unless indeed they themselves jest in order to cheer us; nor must one laugh at chance people, nor in every place, nor with everyone, nor about everything.

For laughter is, especially for young men and women, a slip leading to slander.

But to appear awe-inspiring is, from afar, a thing that puts to flight those who would tempt;

for gravity is able to repel the assaults of wantonness even from the mere appearance.

And in general, so to speak, "wine sets all the senseless even to laugh softly and to dance," turning the manly character aside into the softness of effeminacy.

And one must observe how from this point freedom of speech swells the disorder into foul language;

"and one lets slip a word which were better left unspoken."

It happens, indeed, that in wine the characters of the underhanded are especially laid bare, stripped of their hypocrisy through the illiberal frankness of drunken insolence; on account of which reason is lulled to sleep within the soul itself, heavy-headed with drunkenness, while the perverse passions are roused up, tyrannizing over the weakness of the reasoning faculty.

From foul language, however, we ourselves must wholly abstain, and we must muzzle those who use it, both with a sterner look and with a turning away of the face, and with what is called a sniff of contempt, and often even with harsher speech.

"For the things that come out of the mouth," it says, "defile the man"—they show him to be vulgar and heathen and uncultivated and licentious, and not, on the contrary, decent and orderly and temperate.

And against the hearing of shameful things and the sight of things in like condition, the divine Pedagogue, just as those who wrestle with children put protective ear-coverings on them so that their ears may not be crushed, surrounds the temperate ones with sober words as ear-guards, so that the blow of fornication cannot reach so as to crush the soul;

and He directs the eyes toward the sight of beautiful things, saying that it is better to slip with the feet than with the eyes.

Repelling this foul language, the Apostle says: "Let no corrupt word proceed out of your mouth, but only such as is good."

"As is fitting for saints, let not filthiness or foolish talking or jesting be even named among you—things which are not seemly—but rather thanksgiving."

And if he who calls his brother a fool is liable to judgment, what shall we pronounce concerning the foolish talker? Concerning him too it is written:

"Whoever speaks an idle word shall give account of it to the Lord in the day of judgment."

And again: "By your words you shall be justified," it says, "and by your words you shall be condemned."

What, then, are the saving ear-guards? And what are the disciplinings of the slippery eyes? They are the associations with the righteous, anticipating and stopping up beforehand the ears against those who wish to lead us away from the truth.

"Evil companionships corrupt good morals," as poetry says.

But more nobly the Apostle says: "Be those who abhor what is evil, cleaving to what is good;"

for he who consorts with the holy shall be sanctified.

In every way, then, we must abstain from shameful hearings and words and sights, and much more must we keep pure from shameful deeds—on the one hand in the exposing and laying bare of certain parts of the body, which ought not, and on the other in the gazing upon the more secret parts;

for the temperate son did not endure to look upon the nakedness of the righteous man, which was shameful, but temperance covered what drunkenness had laid bare—the conspicuous transgression of ignorance.

And no less must we keep pure also in the utterances of the voice, to which the ears of those who have believed in Christ ought to be impassable.

—decrying it as leading to licentiousness.

For He is always mighty to cut off the roots of sins—the "you shall not commit adultery" through the "you shall not covet";

for adultery is the fruit of desire, the evil root.

In like manner here too the Pedagogue has decried the fearless (unrestrained) use of names, cutting off the fearless commingling of licentiousness.

For to be disorderly in words breeds practice for being unseemly in deeds as well; whereas to exercise self-control concerning the voice is to learn endurance against lust.

And we have set forth in a more profound discourse that neither in the names, nor indeed in the organs of generation and the marital union—of which the names that are not in common usage are predicated—is the designation of what is truly shameful applied;

for neither the knee and the shin—these members—nor the names applied to them, nor the activity through them, are shameful; and the genital members of man are also members, deemed worthy of modesty (reverence), not of disgrace;

but their lawless activity is shameful, and on this account worthy of disgrace and reproach and punishment;

for in truth only vice is shameful, and the things done in accordance with it.

And analogous to these, foul speaking might fittingly be called the discoursing about the works of vice;

such as conversing about adultery or pederasty and the like.

Indeed, the idle chatter of garrulity too must be hushed.

"For out of much talking," it says, "you shall not escape sin;"

loquacity, then, shall pay the penalty;

"for there is one who keeping silence is found wise, and there is one who is hated for much talking."

Indeed, the chatterer becomes wearisome even to himself;

"for one who multiplies words makes his own soul to be abhorred."

What those who live in a refined manner ought to guard against.

Let it be far—far—from us also to scoff, which is the prelude to insolence, out of which strifes and quarrels and enmities swell up.

And we have said that insolence is the minister (servant) of drunkenness.

And a man is judged not by his deeds alone, but also by his words.

"At a banquet," it says, "do not reprove your neighbor, nor speak a word of reproach to him."

For even if it is most strongly enjoined to associate with saints, to scoff at the saint is a sin;

"for out of the mouth of fools," says Scripture, "is a rod of insolence," calling the rod a step-ladder of insolence, upon which insolence leans and rests.

Whence I admire the Apostle, who here too exhorts us not to put forth either witty (frivolous) words or words that are not fitting.

For if the gatherings at feasts are for the sake of love, and the end of a banquet is kindly cheer toward those present, and eating and drinking are the accompaniments of love, how is it not reasonable to conduct ourselves rationally? Nor ought we, for the sake of love, to be at a loss.

For if we come together as those who heighten our mutual goodwill, how is it that by scoffing we stir up enmities? It is better to keep silence than, while bringing ignorance to bear, to gainsay sin.

Truly blessed is the man who has not slipped with his mouth and has not been stung with the grief of sin—whether by repenting of the things wherein he sinned by speaking, or in that he spoke so as to grieve no one.

In general, then, let young men and maidens for the most part abstain from feasts of this sort, lest they stumble concerning things that are not fitting;

for unaccustomed hearings and unseemly sights, while faith is still surging within them, fan the understanding into flame, and the instability of their age co-operates with them toward the easy downward slide of desire;

and sometimes too they become a cause of stumbling to others, by displaying the perilousness of their youthful bloom.

For Wisdom appears to give good counsel:

"Do not sit at all with a married woman, and do not recline upon your elbow at table with her."

That is, do not dine with her too frequently, nor eat with her.

"Nor make joint contributions (drinking-parties) with her over wine, lest perhaps your heart incline toward her, and you slip with your blood into destruction;"

and it said "married," since the danger is greater for one who attempts to loosen the bond of the marriage-union.

But if some necessity should arise bidding women be present, let them be veiled all over with a mantle on the outside, and within with modesty;

but as for those who are not married, it is the utmost reproach for them to be present at a banquet of men, and that too of men who are flushed with wine.

But let the young men, fixing their eyes upon the couch, immovable, leaning upon their elbows alone, be present only with their ears;

and if they should be seated, let them not have their feet crossed, nor lay the one thigh upon the other, nor prop the chin with the hand;

for it is ill-bred not to bear oneself well, and this is an accusation against the young man.

And continually shifting and changing one's posture is a token of levity.

It belongs to a temperate man, straightway in drink and in food, to choose the lesser portion and the more leisurely manner, not the more headlong, both in the beginning and in the intervals, and to leave off beforehand, and to be free from attachment.

"Eat," it says, "like a man the things set before you; cease first, for the sake of good discipline; and if you have sat in the midst of many, do not stretch out your hand before them."

One must not, then, leap forward, persuaded by gluttony, nor on the other hand ought one to stretch the eating out at length, confessing one's intemperance by the lateness; nor yet should one appear in the meantime fixed upon the food like beasts upon their prey, nor partake of more relish;

for man is by nature not a relish-eater, but a bread-eater.

And it belongs to a self-controlled man to rise before the majority and to withdraw from the banquet in a seemly manner;

"For at the hour of rising," it says, "do not be last, and hurry away to your house."

And the Twelve, having called together the multitude of the disciples, said:

"It is not pleasing that we should forsake the word of God and serve tables."

If, then, they guarded against this, much more did they flee from gluttony.

And these same apostles, writing to the brethren throughout Antioch and Syria and Cilicia, said: "It has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to lay upon you no further burden than these necessary things: to abstain from things sacrificed to idols, and from blood, and from things strangled, and from fornication; from which if you keep yourselves, you shall do well."

And one must guard against drunken excess just as against hemlock;

for both alike drag a man down into death.

One must also refrain from excessive laughter and immoderate tears.

For often those who have been drinking, after roaring with laughter for a long while, are then somehow drawn—I know not how—into tears, being beguiled by some drunken folly.

For both effeminate softness and insolent excess are out of tune with reason.

Elders, regarding the young as their children, may very rarely—yet perhaps now and then—jest with them, teasing them in such a way as will train their sense of propriety.

For instance, toward the bashful and silent one it is possible to make a pleasant jest somewhat as follows:

"This son of mine"—I mean that silent one—"never stops talking!"

For such a jest heightens the young man's modesty, gracefully bringing to light the good qualities he possesses by way of disparaging the faults which are not in him.

For this too is a teaching device: confirming what is present through what is absent.

For instance, in just such a manner does one pass judgment when, of the water-drinker and the temperate man, he says that he is drunk and carousing.

But if there should be any who are fond of scoffing, we must keep silent and pass over their superfluous words, just as we pass by cups that are filled to the brim.

For such sport is perilous.

"The mouth of the rash man draws near to ruin."

You shall not admit a vain report, nor consent with the unjust to become an unjust witness, whether for slanders or blasphemies, nor indeed for any malice.

For my part, I think I would also set a measure upon the voice for the temperate—those, that is, who are permitted to speak in answer to the one conversing with them.

"A good word ... of an age that has proven itself."

"Speak, elder, at the banquet,"

"but speak without hindrance and with exactness of knowledge."

"Young man, to you also wisdom grants leave: speak, if there be need of you—but only barely, when asked twice—and sum up your speech in a few words."

Let both who converse measure out their utterance by due proportion.

For loudness of speech is most akin to madness, while to utter what is inaudible to those nearby is the mark of a senseless man.

The one is a sign of vulgarity, the other of self-willed presumption.

Let contentiousness also be absent, that strives for the empty victory of words, since our goal is tranquillity—and this indeed is what "Peace be unto you" means.

"Before you have listened, do not answer a word."

Moreover, a broken, mincing voice is the mark of an effeminate weakling, but a measured voice is the mark of the temperate man—restraining his utterance alike in volume, length, speed, and quantity.

For one must never speak at length, nor talk much, nor babble, but neither must one converse hastily and in a rush.

For even to the voice itself, so to speak, one must impart justice, and curb those who shout out of season and those who bawl.

For in this very way the temperate Odysseus chastised Thersites with blows, because he alone railed without measure, "who knew in his heart many words, but disordered—idle, and not in due order."

"A man full of tongue is a terror in his city."

At any rate, with babblers, as with old shoes, all the rest is worn away by wickedness, and only the tongue is left over—for mischief.

Therefore, most profitably for life, wisdom exhorts us not to chatter in the company of elders; and cutting off our idle talk from above, beginning from God, it lays down the law of moderation somewhat thus:

"Do not repeat a word in your prayer."

Smackings of the lips and whistlings and snappings of the fingers, by which servants are summoned, being irrational signals, must be shunned by rational men.

One must also avoid continual spitting and clearing the throat too violently.

Nor should one blow one's nose during the drinking.

For one must in some way have regard for those feasting together, lest out of nausea they come to loathe such an unseemliness, which is an accuser of self-indulgence.

For the manger and the dung-heap are not, as with oxen and asses, in the same place.

For indeed, many people blow their noses and spit at the same time as ... they are even dining.

If a sneeze should come upon anyone, just as also a belch, those nearby need not be made to ring with the noise, bearing witness against their own ill-breeding; but the belch is to be let pass quietly, the air being expelled while the mouth is composed in seemly fashion—not gaping wide and drawn apart like the masks of tragedy.

And the disturbing force of a sneeze must be done away with by gently drawing in the breath.

For in this way one will most decorously quench the sudden threat of the blast, managing its outlet so as even to try to keep it unnoticed, should the air, in being forced out, also drive out some waste matter along with it.

But it is a token of arrogance and disorder to wish to add to such sounds rather than to diminish them.

Those who pick at their teeth and make their gums bleed are both disgusting to themselves and odious to those near them.

Indeed too, the ticklings of the ears and the irritations that provoke sneezing are swinish itchings, practisers of unbridled lewdness.

And one must shun unseemly behaviour done openly before the eyes, and their foul talk.

Let the gaze be steady, the turning of the neck and its movement composed, and the gesturing of the hands during conversation likewise.

For in general the Christian is a familiar of calm and quietness and serenity and peace.

Whether one should use perfumes and garlands.

The use of garlands and perfumes is not necessary for us.

For it runs aground in pleasures and indolence, especially when night is drawing near.

I know that the woman, having brought an alabaster jar of perfume at the holy supper, anointed the feet of the Lord and refreshed Him.

I know too that the ancient kings of the Hebrews were crowned with gold and precious stone.

But the woman, not yet having partaken of the Word—for she was still a sinner—honoured the Master with that which she esteemed to be the most precious thing she had, namely the perfume.

Indeed, with the very adornment of her body, with her own hair, she wiped off the excess of the perfume, pouring out upon the Lord the tears of repentance.

For this reason her sins are forgiven.

And this can be a symbol of the Lord's teaching and of His passion.

For the feet, anointed with fragrant perfume, hint at the divine teaching journeying with renown to the ends of the earth.

"For their voice has gone out to the ends of the earth."

And, if I do not seem tedious, the perfumed feet of the Lord are the apostles, who, by the prophecy of the fragrance, partook of the holy anointing of the Spirit.

At any rate, the apostles, who went round about the inhabited world and preached the gospel, are allegorized as the feet of the Lord, concerning whom the Spirit also foretells through the psalmist:

"Let us worship at the place where His feet stood"—that is, where His feet, the apostles, reached, through whom, being proclaimed, He came to the ends of the earth.

Now the tears are repentance, and the loosened hair proclaimed deliverance from love of adornment, and the affliction endured in patience together with the preaching for the Lord's sake—that old vainglory being loosed away on account of the new faith.

But it also discloses the Master's passion in a mystical sense to those who understand it thus.

The oil is the Lord Himself, from whom comes the mercy that is upon us.

But the perfume—oil that has been adulterated—is Judas the traitor, by whom the Lord had His feet anointed, as He was being released from His sojourn in the world.

For the dead are anointed with perfume.

And we, the sinners who have repented and believed in Him, to whom He forgave their sins, are the tears; and the loosened hair is mourning Jerusalem, the forsaken, on whose account are the prophetic lamentations.

And the Lord Himself will teach us that Judas is the one adulterated, saying: "He who dips with Me into the dish, this man will betray Me."

Do you see the treacherous fellow-banqueter? And this same Judas betrayed the Teacher with a kiss.

He became at once a hypocrite and one bearing an adulterated kiss, imitating that other ancient hypocrite—the people whom He also rebukes:

"This people honours Me with their lips, but their heart is far away from Me."

It is not unfitting, then, that He should be denoted as oil insofar as he was a disciple who had received mercy, but as treacherous oil, poisoned, insofar as he was a traitor.

This, then, was what the perfumed feet were prophesying: the betrayal of Judas, as the Lord was journeying toward His passion.

And the Saviour Himself, washing the feet of the disciples and sending them out to good works, hinted at their journeying toward the benefiting of the nations, having prepared it beforehand to be seemly and pure by His own power.

And the perfume gave off its odour through these, and the work of the fragrance that reaches unto all has been made famous.

For indeed the Lord's passion has filled us with fragrance, but the Hebrews with sin.

The apostle has shown this most clearly, saying:

Thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and through us spreads abroad in every place the fragrance of the knowledge of Him;

for we are to God the sweet savor of the Lord among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing;

to the one a fragrance from death unto death, but to the other a fragrance from life unto life.

The kings of the Jews, who wore a crown of gold and precious stones, intricate and many-colored, being the anointed ones, unawares bore the Christ symbolically upon their head, adorning their head with the Lord.

Again, He is the incorruptible Word, who does not admit the rust of corruption.

To Him, when He was born, the Magi brought gold as a symbol of His kingship.

And this crown remains immortal, after the image of the Lord;

for it does not wither like a flower.

I know also the sayings of Aristippus the Cyrenaic.

Aristippus lived a life of luxury;

he posed a sophistical argument of this sort:

a horse anointed with perfume is in no way harmed as to a horse's excellence, nor a dog perfumed as to a dog's excellence;

neither, then, is a man harmed, he added ... and so he drew his conclusion.

But to the horse and the dog perfume is of no account; yet to those whose perception is more rational, this indulgence is the more blameworthy, when they go about wearing girlish scents.

Of these perfumes the varieties are countless—brenthium, metallium, the royal, the plangonian ... and the Egyptian psagdas.

Simonides, in his iambics, is not ashamed to say:

and I anointed myself with perfumes and incense and baccharis;

for a certain merchant happened to be there.

They also cultivate perfume made from lilies and that from henna; nard too is in high esteem among them, and the unguent made from roses, and the rest that women still use—both liquid and dry, and the ... sprinkled and fumigating perfumes;

for day by day they devise the insatiable craving for fragrance to feed the insatiable greed of their desire;

and therefore they reek of much vulgarity.

And these women fumigate and besprinkle their garments, their bedding, and their houses, so that their luxury all but compels even their chamber-pots to smell of perfume.

Rightly, it seems to me, certain men, indignant at the zeal spent on this, were so set against perfumes that they would banish from well-ordered cities both the craftsmen who make them, the perfumers, and likewise the dyers of flowery-colored wool;

for it is not lawful that deceitful garments and unguents should make their way into the city of truth.

It is altogether fitting that the men among us should smell not of perfumes but of nobleness of soul; and let the woman breathe forth Christ, the royal anointing, not powders and perfumes, but let her ever be anointed with the ambrosial unguent of temperance, delighting in the holy perfume, the Spirit.

This unguent of fragrance Christ prepares for the men who are His own, compounding the perfume out of heavenly aromatics.

With this perfume the Lord Himself also is anointed, as is declared through David:

Therefore God, Your God, has anointed You with the oil of gladness above Your fellows;

myrrh and aloes and cassia perfume all Your garments.

But let us not unawares loathe perfumes like the vultures or the beetles—for they say that beetles die when smeared with rose perfume; yet a few of the perfumes may be allowed to women, such as do not stupefy the husband;

for the immoderate anointings with perfumes ... reek of funerals rather than of married life together.

And indeed oil itself is hostile to bees and to insect creatures; yet of men it has benefited some, while it has called others forth to combat, and in the stadiums it turns those who were formerly friends, once anointed, into all-out struggle in the contest.

Do you not think that perfume, being a soft oil, ... can effeminate even noble characters? Most certainly it can.

Just as we have shut luxury out from the sense of taste, so without question we also banish sensual gratification from the sights and the smells, lest unawares we give the licentiousness we have driven out a way back into the soul through the senses, as it were through unguarded doors.

If, then, they should say that the incense of fragrance is what the great High Priest, the Lord, offers up to God, let them not understand this as a sacrifice and a sweet savor of incense, but rather let them receive it thus: that the Lord offers up upon the altar the acceptable offering of love, the spiritual fragrance.

But the pursuit of fragrance is a bait for slothfulness, luring one from afar into gluttonous desire ...

For the licentious man is easily led captive from every quarter—from food, from bedding, from company, from the eyes, from the ears, from the cheeks, and even from the nostrils.

Just as oxen are led about by rings and ropes, so too the licentious man is dragged around by incense and perfumes and the fragrances from garlands.

Since we assign no place to pleasure that is bound up with no use profitable to life, come, let us here too make a distinction, choosing what is useful.

For there are certain fragrances that are not stupefying nor erotic, and that therefore do not reek of dalliance and licentious companionship, but are wholesome along with temperance, both nourishing the brain when it is in poor condition and strengthening the stomach.

Far be it, then, from him to cool himself with flowers when the sinews desire to be warmed;

for we are not to reject the use of them altogether, but to use perfume as a medicine and an aid, both to rouse a flagging strength and against catarrhs and chills and discomforts—as the comic poet too somewhere says:

he anoints his nostrils with perfumes;

a very great part of health is to make wholesome scents for the brain.

And the rubbing of the feet with the fatty substance of warming or cooling perfumes is practiced for the sake of benefit, so that for those who are congested there may come about from the head a certain drawing off and withdrawal ... toward the less vital parts.

But pleasure to which usefulness does not belong is the slander of a courtesan-like character and a drug of provocations.

Anointing oneself thoroughly with unguent differs altogether from being anointed with perfume;

for the one is effeminate, but to be anointed with perfume is at times even beneficial.

Aristippus the philosopher at least, when he had anointed himself with perfume, declared that the abominable catamites ought to perish miserably, since they had brought the benefit of perfume into disgrace and reproach.

"Honor the physician according to your need of him," says the Scripture;

for the Most High also created him, and from the Lord comes healing.

And the perfumer shall make a compound—plainly for benefit, since perfumes have been given not for sensual gratification.

For we must by no means be zealous about the provocative quality of perfumes, but choose what is beneficial, seeing that God has granted the production of oil itself ... to men for the relief of toils.

But the foolish women who dye their gray hairs and perfume their tresses turn gray the sooner, because the aromatics are drying.

And so those who use perfume appear the more parched;

and dryness makes people grayer—for whether grayness is the withering of the hair or a lack of warmth—since dryness drains away the hair's own moist nourishment ... and renders it gray.

How, then, could we who flee gray hairs still reasonably love the perfumes through which gray hairs come? Just as dogs, scenting the trail, track wild beasts by the smell, so from the meddlesome fragrance of perfumes the self-controlled hunt out the licentious.

Such, too, is the use of garlands: it belongs to revelry and drunkenness;

"Do not set a garland about my head."

For in the springtime it is good to dwell in dewy and soft meadows that grow green with many-colored flowers, fed, like the bees, on a natural and pure fragrance;

but to deck oneself with a plaited garland from the unspoiled meadow and carry it about indoors is not the part of the temperate;

for it is not fitting to wreathe the hair for revelry with rose-buds or violets or lilies or any other such flowers, flowering over one's locks with the meadow's green.

For the garland encircling the hair chills it in another way, both through its moisture and through ... its coldness;

to revive vigorously the coldness as it passes through.

Far be it, then, from him to cool himself with flowers when the sinews desire to be warmed.

Indeed ... those who are wreathed with garlands destroy even the delight of the blossoming.

For neither do those who bind the garland above their eyes enjoy the sight of it, nor indeed do those who set the flowers above their breathing enjoy their fragrance;

for since the fragrance naturally rises upward and is exhaled above the head, the breath is left bereft of the enjoyment, the fragrance being snatched away.