The stylistic influence of the second sophistic on the panegyrical sermons of St. John Chrysostom; a study in Greek rhetoric ..

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The Stylistic Influence of the Second Sophistic
On the Panegyrical Sermons of
St. John Chrysostom

A
STUDY IN GREEK RHETORIC

A DISSERTATION

Submitted to the Faculty of Letters of the Catholic University
of America in Partial Fulfilment of the
Requirements for the Degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

i
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Rev. THOMAS E# AMERINGER, O. F. M., M. A.,
OF THE PROVINCE OF ST. JOHN BaPTIST
CINCINNATI, OHIO

CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA
WASHINGTON, D. C.
1921

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Nihil obstat, )
Leo Molengraft, O.F.M.
Censor deputatus

Imprimi permittitur,
Edmundus Klein, O.F.M.
; Minister Provincialis

Nihil obstat,
P. L. Biermann
Censor deputatus

Imprimatur,

Georgius Gulielmus Mundelein

Archiepiscopus Chicagiensis
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in 2007 with funding from
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TABLE OF CONTENTS

PAGE
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MMIMSCENI ie oid anh o/) 2 e's ie Se Rip cotrels! Rees 9

CHAPTER

T. The' New or Second Sophisties 0.5.5 25.0 ccs ives Os 11
II. Chrysostom’s Attitude Toward Sophistic Rhetoric.. 20
Pia. Minor Fipires of Speech.§< oie cc seas avalon enes 29
IV. Symmetry of the Period: The Gorgianic Figures.. 42
Re he Meteors... . Meets w inl ae eves s aeayees 56
BESS, PEEK SIVA VER ED 2 3c Bea cyl sche: g-albk are esate al v4 sin elonae a 68

RE eR SOCHOANIS bore S75 a scka) wa ators pd Col fedca ode dra, ial als 86
Conclusion ...... Reyne secre ACU aB? Bh! CEC a 101

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POOR Y:

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Migne, Patrologia Graeca (vol. 47-64, on Chrysostom).—Cited thus: 49,
170, 35 means: vol. 49, column 170, line 35. The English citations are
taken as far as available from:

The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, ed. by
Philipp Schaff, New York, 1894.

Ackermann, L., Die Beredsamkeit des hl. Johannes Chrysostomus, Wiirz-
burg, 1886.

er -? St. Jean Chrysostome considéré comme orateur populaire, Paris,
165

Bardenhewer, O., Geschichte der altchristlichen Literatur, Bd. III, Frei-
burg i. Breisgau, 1912.

Baur, Dom. Chr., St. Jean Chrysostome et ses oeuvres dans Vhistoire lit-
téraire, Louvain-Paris, 1907.

Burgess, T., Epideictic Literature, Dissert., Chicago, 1902.

Christ, W. v., Griechische Literaturgeschichte, Bd. VII, 2, 2, Miinchen, 1913.

Colombo, S., Jl Dialogo epi ‘Iepwotvns di S. Giovanni Crisostomo e la
Retorica, Didaskaleion I (1912), 173-200, Torino.

Guignet, M., St. Grégoire de Nazianze et la rhétorique, Paris, 1911.

Hatch, E., The Influence of Greek ideas and usages upon the Christian
Church, London, 1891

Hermogenes, Ilepi *Ideav, ed. Spengel, Rhetores Graeci, vol. II.

Kaibel, G., Dionysius v. Halicarnassus und die Sophistik, Hermes XX
(1885), 497-513.

Libanius, Opera, ed. Foerster, Lipsiae, 1903.

Lucian, ‘Pyrépwv Addoxados, ed. Jacobitz, Vol. III, Leipzig, 1913.

Méridier, L., L’Influence de la seconde sophistique sur loeuvre de Grégoire
de Nysse, Thése, Paris, 1906.

Naegele, A., Johannes Chrysostomos und sein Verhdltnis zum Hellenismus,
Byzant. ’ Zeitschrift, XIII (1904), 73-113. Chrysostomos und Libanios,
Xpvoocrourkd I, Rome, 1908.

Norden, E., Die Antike Kunstprosa, 2 Bd., Leipzig-Berlin, 1915.

Polemo, Declamationes, ed. Hinck, Leipzig, 1873.

Puech, A., St. Jean Chrysostome et les moeurs de son temps, Paris, 1891.
St. Jean Chrysostome, Paris, 1900.

Rohde, E., Die griechische Sophistik der Kaiserzeit, in Der griechische
Roman und seine Vorléufer, 310 ff., ed. 2, Leipzig, 1900.

Schmid, W., Der Atticismus in seinen Hauptvertretern, Stuttgart, 1887.
Bericht iiber die Literatur aus den Jahren 1894-1900 sur zweiten
Sophistik, in Bursian’s Jahresberichte, XX1X (1901). Bericht tiber die
Literatur aus den Jahren 1901-1904 zur zweiten Sophistik, in Bursian’s
Jahresberichte, XXXIV (1906).

Villemain, A. F., N ouveaux mélanges historiques et littéraires: De lélo-
quence chrétienne dans le quatriéme siécle, Paris, 1827.

Volkmann, R., Die Rhetorik der Griechen und Rémer, Leipzig, 1885.

Weissenbach, J., De Eloquentia Patrum, Libri XIII, Augustae Vindeli-
corum, 1775.

Wendland, P., Die hellenistisch-rémische Kultur in ihren Beziehungen zu
Judentum und Christentum, Tiibingen, 1912.

Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, U. v., Die Kultur der Gegenwart, Teil I, Abt.
VIII, 213 ff., Berlin- -Leipzig, 1907.

7

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INTRODUCTION

The purpose of this dissertation is to investigate the influ-
ence of the Second Sophistic Rhetoric on St. John Chrysostom
by studying in his sermons the chief figures of speech employed
by the sophist rhetors, as well as the sophistic ecphrasis. From
the vast bulk of Chrysostom’s sermons, about 450 in number, we
have selected the Sermones Panegyrici seu in Solemnitates as
most likely to show the sophistic influence. The epideictic dis-
course was in fact the most favored by the rhetors, and allowed
the fullest display of rhetorical resources. The panegyrical ser-
mons comprise some of the most celebrated sermons of Chrysos-
tom, viz., the seven Panegyrics on St. Paul and the Festal Dis-
courses. We have not, however, entirely neglected the other
sermons, and have included in our study the first four Homilies
on the Statues, the two On Eutropius, two On His Return from
Exile, and one Against the Games and Theatres.

An examination of the tendencies of profane rhetoric in the
sermons of the greatest orator of the Eastern Church will, we
hope, be a welcome contribution to one of the most interesting
problems of today, the literary relations between Hellenism and
Christianity. In regard to this question our study aims to con-
tinue the investigations made by L. Méridier in his work: L’Jnflu-
ence de la seconde sophistique sur oeuvre de Grégoire de Nysse,
as well as by M. Guignet: St. Gregowre de Nazianze et la Rhéto-
rique. We have followed substantially the plan of these scholars,
and have been guided by their methods in the handling of our
subject. We have, however, confined our study to the strictly
rhetorical influences as they appear in the tropes, figures of
speech, and the ecphrasis of the above mentioned sermons, while
their works embrace not only the study of the tropes and figures,
but also the composition and the dialectics of the sermons and
other writings of Gregory of Nyssa and Gregory Nazianzen.

We have not attempted to trace in Chrysostom any close cor-
respondences between his style and that of any particular sophist,
e.g., Libanius. Both Méridier* and Guignet? have pointed out
the futility of such a plan. Our endeavor has been rather to find

1 Avant-propos, VI.
2 Ch. III, 72.

10

in Chrysostom the characteristics of the second sophistic in gen-
eral. These characteristics are very thoroughly treated by Meéri-
dier in the above-mentioned work.*

The subject of this dissertation was suggested by a reading
of E. Norden’s work, Die Antike Kunstprosa, I1, 569 ff., where
he briefly indicates the difference between Gregory Nazianzen’s
style and that of Basil and Chrysostom: “Lange wohldisponierte
Satze statt der kurzen zerhackten, und im allgemeinen sehr spar-
same Verwendung der Redefiguren, nach denen man bei ihnen
suchen muss, wahrend sie sich bei Gregor tiberall aufdrangen.”
Our eagerness to search after these evidences of the influence of
profane rhetoric in Chrysostom was increased, when we learned
that E. Norden was not alone in minimizing this influence. Thus
L. Ackermann‘ makes the strange assertion that Chrysostom
wrote in the style of St. Paul, and that he was free from the bad
taste and the mannerisms of the sophists. Wilamowitz® states
that there is no trace of the jingle of rhymes and cadences in
Chrysostom’s larger orations. O. Bardenhewer® restricts the
sophistic influence in Chrysostom to some individual sermons of
his earlier period. If these statements were correct, we argued,
then the sermons of Chrysostom presented a psychological phe-
nomenon that was indeed remarkable. It seemed strange to us
that Chrysostom should be detached to such an extent from the
rhetoric in which he was trained from early youth, and which,
prior to his ordination, claimed him as one of its ablest exponents.
These considerations made us still more eager to take up this
subject, and to determine in what measure these statements were
justified.

We have not included in our investigation the study of rhyth-
mical clausulae in Chrysostom, because the question of prose
rhythm is still a much-mooted one, and allows much room for
subjective theorizing. Moreover, this subject is in itself large
enough for a special monograph.

The author wishes to acknowledge his indebtedness and to
express his sincere gratitude to Dr. Roy Joseph Deferrari, Head
of the Greek and Latin Departments at the Catholic University
of America, under whose helpful and stimulating direction this
monograph has been written.

3 Ch. III, La Seconde Sophistique.

4 Die Beredsamkeit des hl. Johannes Chrysostomus, 99.
5 Kultur der Gegenwart, Teil I, Abt. VIII, 214.

8 Ceschichte der altkirchlichen ‘Literatur, Bd. ITI, 353.

CHAPTER I

THE NEW OR SECOND SOPHISTIC

We shall not attempt here anything like a complete sketch of
the interesting period in Greek literature known as the New or
Second Sophistic. We shall be content to point out only its gen-
eral character and the rhetorical devices that shaped its style.*
The term signifies that renaissance of Greek Rhetoric which
dominated Greek literature from the close of the first to the end
of the fourth century a.p. The movement had its rise in the
rhetorical schools of Asia Minor, and in the reign of Hadrian it
entered Athens. Its purpose was to bring about a revival of
Greek oratory by a close imitation of the Attic masters of ex-
pression, Demosthenes, Isocrates, Thucydides, Herodotus, Xeno-
phon, and Plato. But many sophists preferred the mannerisms
of Gorgias and Hippias; for the pompous, ornate diction of the
latter was better suited to their own style than the sober, prac-
tical manner of the great orators and historians. For the same
reason they probably copied the Asiatic orators; at least we find
in many of the sophists the same faults which critics censure in
Hegesias and the Asiatic school, zviz., short, mincing cola, an
excessive use of tropes and figures, and an effeminate rhythm
closely approaching the metre of poetry. Unfortunately these
rhetors of the New Sophistic were reckoned as peers of the an-
cient masters or even as superior to them, and so came to be imi-
tated as classics, whereas their works were at best only poor
copies of the great originals.®

As a consequence of the revival of oratory the study of
rhetoric was regarded as the most essential element of higher
education. All the great sophists were likewise teachers of rhet-
oric. The youth of the better families all passed through their
schools. They stood high in the public estimation. They were

1For a full account of the Second Sophistic see E. Rohde, Die
griechische Sophistik der Kaiserzeit, in Der griechische Roman und seine
Vorlaufer, 310 ff.; also W. Schmid, Der Atticismus in seinen Hauptver-
tretern; E. Norden, Die Antike Kunstprosa; E. Hatch, The Influence of
Greek ideas and usages upon the Christian Church, 86-115; L. Meéridier,
La Seconde Sophistique, in L’Influence de la seconde sophistique sur oeuvre
de Grégoire de Nysse, 7-47.

2W. v. Christ, Griechische Literaturgeschichte, Band VII, 2, 2, 511.

® Rohde, 350.

11

12

regarded as leaders and spokesmen of their respective commu-
nities ; they discharged the highest municipal offices; they served
as legates to the emperors and were honored with statues and
laudatory decrees.* Occasionally they pleaded private causes in
the law-courts, but this they regarded as a menial avocation and
as beneath the dignity of an artist.

What they claimed as their peculiar province was the oratory
of pomp and show, the so-called epideictic speeches, in which art
was displayed for art’s sake. These, like all the literary products
of the Sophistic, were composed primarily with a view to public
declamation. In speeches decked out with all the embellishments
of rhetoric the sophist championed the interests of his province or
city before the imperial magistrates. At the national games of
Olympia and the other great contests panegyrical speeches formed
an essential part of the program. At the solemn feasts of the
gods the sophist was selected to voice the devout enthusiasm of
his fellow-citizens.° The themes of the ordinary discourses were
of a manifold character. Sometimes the sophist would deliver a
well-prepared speech on a subject of forensic or deliberative
oratory, but preferably on a theme taken from mythology or his-
tory. Not infrequently he would marshal all the resources of his
wit and ingenuity in the laudatory exposition of some lowly
theme, such as the ancient sophists were wont to treat.

However, the supreme test of an accomplished sophist con-
sisted in discoursing without previous preparation on any subject
selected by his audience. It was part of his art to force the choice
of a subject, or so to develop it that he might bring in something
which he had already prepared. “When your audience has chosen
a subject for you,” says Lucian,* in his satirical advice to rhetori-
cians, “go straight at it and say without hesitation whatever words
come to your tongue, never minding about the first point coming
first and the second second: the great thing is to go right on and
not have any pauses. If you have to talk at Athens about adul-
tery, bring in the customs of the Hindoos and Persians: above all,
have passages about Marathon and Cynaegirus—that is indis-
pensable. And Athos must always be turned into sea, and the
Hellespont into dry land, and the sun must be darkened by the
clouds of Median arrows . . . . and Salamis and Artemisium and
Plataea, and so forth, must come in pretty frequently ; and, above

4 Rohde, 315 ff.

5 Rohde, 326 ff.
6 The Teacher of Rhetoric, 18.

13

all, those little Attic words I told you about must blossom on the
surface of your speech—dadrra and Sprovfer—must be sprinkled
about freely, whether they are wanted or not: for they are pretty
words, even when they do not mean anything.” *

The skilled rhetor declaimed his well-balanced periods with a
kind of musical cadence of the voice, which varied in pitch accord-
ing to the sentiment of the passage. Sometimes he lapsed into a
monotonous singsong, an abuse prevalent among the Asiatic
orators. Ancient critics compare this musical delivery to the song
of the nightingale or the music of the citharist. In point of facial
expression and gestures some sophists exceeded all measure. Oc-
casionally, like actors on the stage, they impersonated diverse
characters, such as a murderer, a farmer, or a beggar.®

The occasion on which the sophist made his appearance before
the public was indeed one of triumph and glory for him, bringing
a rich reward for all his labors. The entire population, from the
mechanic to the highest official, thronged to these performances
as to a dramatic spectacle. The audience was asa rule very appre-
ciative and signified its approval by clapping, by loud cheers and
cries of : “Bravo!” “Inspired!” “Wonderful!”® This practice of
loud applause prevailed even in the Christian churches of this
period, as we shall see from Chrysostom’s sermons. The sophist
felt it very keenly if the audience showed itself indifferent or slow
to applaud.

One of the chief defects of the New Sophistic was its unreal-
ity. The sophists chose their subjects not from the living present,
but from the dead past; for they considered themes taken from
the life of the times as trivial and commonplace. But whenever
they deigned to treat such a topic, they did it in an idealistic
fashion, surrounding it with the glamour of antiquity. Their
favorite field was ancient history and mythology. The sophist
had no real, personal, vital interest in his subject. It appealed to
him solely in as far as it lent itself to rhetorical embellishment,
and in this respect he gave full rein to his fancy, not caring for
any deeper investigation of the nature and essence of things.
This enabled him to speak with an annoying facility on any topic,
and he could “make small things seem great and great things
small.” The first essentials of true oratory were lacking—
grandeur or importance of subject-matter, sincerity of disposition

7 Tr. by E. Hatch, 95.

® Rohde, 336 ff.
8E Hatch, 06.

14

in the orator, and genuineness of feeling. The ancient Greek
orators discoursed on issues of public and personal interest. They
identified these issues with their own and put their heart and
soul into them. The sophist selected fanciful themes with the
sole purpose of entertaining or amusing his hearers with a pyro-
technical display of rhetorical skill, wit, and ingenuity.*°

The rhetorical style of the sophists shows this same tendency,
a constant straining after effect by a display of tropes and fig-
ures.11 Hermogenes, defining false Seworns, informs us that it is
proper to the sophists (epi iseév, 395). Among the figures which
they employed to obtain this false Sevdrns, he mentions the so-
called oynpara xexadrAwmopéva (ib., 332 ff.). These are the parison,
the epanaphora, the antistrophe, the xdipag, the polyptoton, and
the hyperbaton.**

Of these figures the chief ones are the epanaphora and the
parison. The epanaphora is one of the most ordinary figures of
the sophists’ style. They employ it with cola of moderate length
to produce a sort of musical refrain and with short xéppara with
a view to nervous energy. Most often it is combined with asyn-
deton, which makes it more emphatic. The epanaphora occurs
frequently in the two declamations of Polemo. The same is
true of the orations of Libanius, e.g., in Or. XLVII, 412, 17
(Foerster) : rowtro. . . . . rovaira . . . . is repeated seven times.
In Himerius’ Ecl. II, 46, 6: és . . . . is repeated four times.

A very important group of figures are the Gorgianic Figures,
the parison, the antithesis, and the homoioteleuton. They are par
excellence the figures of artistic Greek prose, producing symme-
try, parallelism, and musical cadence, which are among its greatest
beauties. Their invention was attributed by the ancients to
Gorgias. Be that as it may, it is certain that the abuse of these
figures was one of the most glaring faults of his style. The
sophists as a rule copied this bad example. We shall quote ex-
amples of the parison, antithesis, and homoioteleuton from some
of the leading sophists.

The parison presents two or more successive cola having the
same general structure, often with an exact correspondence be-
tween the respective parts of the cola. Libanius, who employs
this figure oftener than any other, has the following: Or. XIX,
412, 61:

10 Rohde, 347 ff.

_11Qn this subject cf. Méridier, 20-47.
12 All of these, except the parison, are treated in chapter III, p. 20.

15

kataAdéAvvtat pev ai repi Tods Adyous SiarpiBai,
katadéAvvrat S& ai wept Ta ypdppata Sidacxadia . . . .
vooowvTwy ev 4) xpoa, ,
ovk éppwpevov 8é 7 dovn,
metavnpevov 88 4) yvoun... .

Himerius, in Ecl. 11, 50, 11:

*Améarnpev érépois THs tpyewovias, ovK avTEiTeEs*
Tapexopnoapev TOV Tatpiov oXNMaTos, OK iyavdKTCAS.

Themistius, Or. I, 11 d.:

ddukos pev THs orovdis,
HAs 8& THs yvouys,
avontos S€ ths éAmidos.

When the two cola of a parison express a contrast of ideas, we
have the most artistic form of the parison—the antithesis. The
sophists had a high regard for this figure and used it lavishly.
The two declamations of Polemo teem with antitheses,’* in which
Cynaegirus is contrasted with Callimachus. The Corinthiacus of
Favorinus likewise abounds in antitheses, e.g., 15, 18:

codes pev qv per’ dXriyov,

tupavvos Sé pera roAdOv.

18, 22: .

teOnvat bev ws apioTos,

éexrreceiv 8 ws wovnpdtarov.

Libanius is prodigal in his use of the same figure, e.g., Or.
XVIII, 370, 308:
@ puxpov pev THS ynS pépos KaTéxov Su Tov Tadov,
macav St To Oavpati Thy oikovpéevyy,
@ VEViKnKOS paxas pev Tos aGAAOPVAOUVs,

dpaxel 8% rods duodpvdovs.

Note how the symmetry of the last two cola is enhanced by the
double paronomasia.

The symmetry of cola reaches its highest perfection when the
parison is combined with the homoioteleuton, which is produced
by the recurrence of the same final syllables at the end of suc-
cessive cola. This musical and poetical element of style holds an
important place in sophistic literature. It was one of the chief
means employed by the sophists to give a poetical character to
their prose. We cite a few instances from Dion Chrysostom and
Libanius :

13 Schmid, I, 63.

16

Dion Chrysostom, Or. 75, 204:
6 Tas mavnytpes ovvayor,
6 Tovs Jeods Tipmr,
& Thv apernv adgwv.
Id., Or. III, 55, 15:
7) otpariav e&ératev
i) Xopay ijpépooer,
q wodw OKUTEV,
7) motapovs eLevgev,
i ynv OSedryy eroinoer.
Libanius, Or. XIX, 385, 1:
kal Aoyw xpyoopevnv
kal épyw Senoomervny.
Ib. 387, 5:
tovs te madeverIar BovAopévous
tovs Te madevew Svvapévous.

Among the figures of which the sophists were very fond we
must mention paronomasia and alliteration. Paronomasia is a
play on words which are similar in sound but dissimilar in sense.
Its various forms may be grouped under two heads,

1) Words having the same root:

a) With changes and additions of prefixes:

Dion Chrysostom, I, 228, 2: dvrirexvor kai dudrexvor; Aristides,
VII, 75, 78: mpoydvey re Kal éxydvor.

b) With changes of case, voice, mood, tense, etc.:

Lucian, Conv. 432: maiwv xai rawpevos ; id., Bis. acc, 815:

eLevfépous eAevfépws pirocodeiv.

2) Words having different roots:

Polemo, Declam. B, 20, 15: odpa .... ona... .3 id., 19,
10: dovov kai ddBov; Dion Chrysostom, I, 189, 32: Aowds Te kal Apos
(Thucydides, II, 54, 2); Aristides, III, 30, 33: dvyyOo....
avnbbw.

Alliteration signifies the recurrence of the same initial letter
or letters in words generally succeeding immediately, e.g.:
Philostratus, Vit. Soph. 39, 20: 8uadaivovrar tov Adyou Kal Aapmporytes
Anyovoa; Achilles Tatius, VII, 11, 7: 6 rév Anordv Adxos AavOdywv.

In his treatise zepi idedv (292, 19 ff.) Hermogenes also remarks
that the immoderate use of tropes was one of the faults of the
imdévAor codiorai (pseudo-sophists). A careful reading of the
sophists will show that they all more or less merit this term of
reproach. Among the tropes the metaphor takes first rank. It

17

signifies the transfer of a word from its literal to a figurative
sense.

The two declamations of Polemo are remarkable for an abun-
dance of metaphors of bad taste.1* For instance, the hands of
Cynaegirus, which had been cut off in the battle of Marathon, are
styled (13, 36): “The divine torches that bore the light of lib-
erty.” The same criticism applies to Aristides, with this differ-
ence, that his lack of originality betrays itself in his dry repetition
of the traditional metaphors of the schools.** The discourses of
Himerius show an abundance of metaphors which are, as a rule,
very artificial and of a labored ingenuity. In contrast with these
sophists, Themistius and Libanius are less bold in their metaphors.
The criticism which Schmid makes of Aristides applies also to
them, viz., their images are trite. Libanius borrows them prefer-
ably from the athletic games. Thus, in Or. XVIII, 360, 283, he
calls the deceased emperor Julian “an athlete who was on the point
of receiving the crown.”

The comparison bears a close relation to the metaphor. In
the metaphor the resemblance between two objects is implied ; in
the comparison it is formally stated. This sparkling ornament of
style appealed strongly to the taste of the sophists. Schmid has
counted 397 instances of the comparison in the 80 orations of Dion
Chrysostom.*® They are in general taken from everyday life,
preferably from medicine. The same critic has noted in the two
declamations of Polemo twelve comparisons which are remark-
able for their bad taste.’ Here is one that is particularly bold and
extravagant—Callimachus is represented as defying the whole
army of the Persians: “Though blows and arrows shower down
upon me thick and fast, yet I speak as if I were being crowned
with flowers.”** The comparisons of Aristides, like his meta-
phors, lack originality..° The comparisons of Himerius are as
numerous as his metaphors and exhibit a tendency to prettiness
and subtlety. They are generally a pretext for the introduction
of brilliant and prolonged images, giving to his writings the poet-
ical color at which he aims. They are drawn mostly from the
beauties of nature and from works of art. In Or. XII, 584, par.
2 and 3, he compares the orator successively to an artisan, a

14 Schmid, I, 61.

15 Schmid, II, 263.
16 Atticismus I, 160.
17 Ib. I, 61 ff.

18 Declam. B, 35, 15.
19 Schmid, II, 263.

18

painter, a sculptor, a flute-player, and a pilot. This last image was
a great favorite with the sophists. While the comparisons of
Himerius reflect the taste and the pretensions of an artist, those of
Themistius are chiefly of a philosophical nature. He is fond of
representing himself as a physician. Other comparisons are bor-
rowed from the athletic games, the chariot-races, and navigation.

The comparisons of Libanius are of the conventional kind.
In his monody on Julian *° he takes one from the palaestra, an-
other one from medicine.”*

The hyperbole is another trope much in vogue with the
sophists. It consists in magnifying an object beyond its just pro-
portions. The sophist orators often employed it to give to topics
which were trivial or commonplace an air of grandeur and im-
portance. Hermogenes, who otherwise is a critic of good judg-
ment, does not scruple to affirm that one may at times employ a
grand style in setting forth subjects in themselves simple and of
small account.*? Acting on this principle the sophists violated all
the canons of good taste. Polemo is one of the worst offenders
in this respect. His two declamations contain a considerable
number of gross exaggerations, e.g., he states that “Callimachus
withstood a shower of missiles of every kind, until he had ex-
hausted all the arrows of Asia and fatigued the grand army of
the king,” ** and again “that Cynaegirus proved that the Athenians
alone of all men were endowed with immortal hands.” ** The
glorious struggles of the Persian wars were a fruitful theme of
extravagant hyperboles. Thus Aristides in his Panathenaicus *°
assures us “that the rivers of blood would have sufficed to keep |
the ships afloat.” In like manner Himerius, commenting on the
vast number of Persian troops,”® states “that no stream would
have sufficed to quench their thirst.” His monody on his son
Rufinus is a long series of hyperboles exhibiting the false pathos
so characteristic of the sophists. In Or, XXIII, 772, 4, he apos-
trophizes his son thus: “Thy first accents were those of a chief of
the people; thy cries yet indistinct held in suspense the whole
world. Thou wast an orator in thy swaddling-clothes.”

The oxymoron, or paradox, is another trope which was dear
to the sophists. It denotes the combination of two terms appar-

20 Or. XVII, 218, 31.

21 [b, 221, 36.

22 mepl ldeav, 306, 5.

23 Declam. B, 19, 21.

247b. A, 12,.9.

25 Or. XIII, 203.
26 Or. II, 408, 24.

19

ently contradictory, but which, viewed in the light of the context,
are not incompatible. The oxymoron was well suited to the
description of paradoxical and unusual situations in which the
sophists loved to revel. The declamations of Polemo furnish sev-
eral examples of traditional oxymora; e.g., he says of Cynaegirus, ©
who from the shore attacked a Persian vessel: évavpayyoev éx yis.7*
In his second declamation (18, 1) he describes the corpse of
Callimachus, which remained in a standing posture though cov-
ered with wounds and pierced with countless arrows, as: vexpoy
Oavdrov xpeirrova, and he reverts to the same subject later (32, 14)
saying: viv mporov aOdvatos &pOy vexpds. Schmid** has noted 44
instances of the oxymoron in Aristides and calls special attention
to one which, like Polemo’s évavpdynoev é« ys, is borrowed from
the Panegiricus of Isocrates, 89: XIII, 259, 276: vavpaxias re ard
ys... . & TH Vow yevopevas.

The ecphrasis, though neither a trope nor a figure, deserves a
place here, because it plays a prominent role in sophistic literature.
It is a graphic and vivid description, minutely detailed, in which
the sophists sought to rival the glowing descriptions of the poets.
It afforded them a fine opportunity for the display of the most
delicate arts of expression. With this object in view they freely
borrowed poetical words as well as poetical themes.”® The ecphra-
sis is found more frequently in the Asiatic sophists who copied
the poets than in the Atticising rhetors who emulated the classic
orators. It is rare in Themistius and is restricted to the function
of a réros in the monodies or of a rhetorical exercise in the
progymnasmata of Libanius. But Himerius, who interlards his
compositions with reminiscences from Alcaeus, Sappho, and
Anacreon, is very lavish in its employment.

Such are in brief the broad features and tendencies as well
as the stylistic peculiarities of the Second Sophistic. The rhe-
torical devices which modify its style are not new nor are they
restricted to the sophist orators; it is rather in their abuse that
the sophistic mariner reveals itself. The most striking feature of
this rhetoric is its artificiality. Art was displayed for art’s sake,
instead of serving as a vehicle of ideas. It will be interesting to
see in what measure this type of eloquence has influenced the
rhetorical style of St. John Chrysostom.

27 Declam. A, 5, 23.
28 Atticismus, 281 ff.
29 On the favorite themes of the ecphrasis see p. 86.

CHAPTER II

CHRYSOSTOM’S ATTITUDE TOWARDS SOPHISTIC RHETORIC

Before we examine the actual traces of rhetorical influence in
the sermons of Chrysostom, it is pertinent to inquire into his
theoretical attitude toward pagan culture and literature in general.
Strangely enough, this question, which has a vital bearing on one
of the most interesting problems of history, the relation of Hel-
lenism to Christianity, has been sadly neglected until recent years.
Without making any deeper investigations in the vast bulk of his
sermons, historians and literary critics from E. Gibbon down to
E. Norden have reiterated the charge that this prince of Christian
orators was either profoundly indifferent or irreconcilably hostile
to pagan culture and literature. The former’ attributes to him
the faculty “of prudently hiding the advantages which he owed
to rhetoric and philosophy.”

The scholar who first exposed the falsity of this traditional
view was A. Naegele.?, He rendered an invaluable service to
scholarship by proving conclusively from Chrysostom’s own
statements that he deserves a place beside Origen, Basil, Augus-
tine, and others who advocated a compromise between Hellenism
and Christianity.

For all practical purposes such a compromise was an estab-
lished fact by the middle of the fourth century. The Christian
Fathers of this period were all thoroughly imbued with classic
culture and gave evidence of it in their writings. Theoretically,
however, opinions were divided as to whether or not Christian
thought should be set forth in the polished language of the pagan
classics. Some of the Fathers, like Augustine* and Gregory
Nazianzen, wavered in their attitude.* Some of Gregory’s bitter
invectives against pagan writers and rhetors give the impression
that he is altogether hostile to profane literature, while other of

1 History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, ed. by W.
Smith, N. Y., III, 468.

2 Johannes Chrysostomos und sein Verhdltnis zum Hellenismus,
Byzant. Zeitschrift XIII (1904), 73-113.

3 Norden, Die Antike Kunstprosa II, 5209.

4 Tb. 517.

5 Guignet, St. Grégoire de Nazianze et la Rhétorique, 44 ff.

20

21

his statements show him in favor of enlisting its formal beauty in
the exposition of Christian doctrine.

Now, Chrysostom’s attitude is similar. In the heat of battle
he sometimes allows his zeal to carry him too far, to censure not
only the errors and vices of paganism, but profane writers and
literature in general. This has led critics like Norden to pro-
nounce him “the most bitter foe of paganism in the fourth cen-
tury.”* A deeper and more sympathetic study of his sermons
would have revealed the fact that, though he is unsparing in his
condemnation of pagan error and immorality, he is at heart not
hostile to the refining and cultural influences of antiquity. We
shall briefly review the more important passages in Chrysostom
which bear out this conclusion.”

In Book III * of his treatise Against the Enemies of Monasti-
cism he emphasizes the duty of parents to send their children to
Christian schools, where their morals and religious training are
safeguarded, rather than to pagan schools, where they “learn vice
before letters.” And, to prevent any misunderstanding, he ex-
claims: “‘What then?’ some one will say, ‘Shall we abolish all
our schools?’ By no means do I say this, but we should not
destroy the edifice of virtue nor bury the soul alive.” He then
proves at length that the acquisition of virtue is more important
than the pursuit of eloquence. In confirmation of this he cites
the philosophers Anacharsis, Crates, Diogenes, and Socrates who
made no account of letters but applied themselves exclusively to
the study of moral philosophy. The opening of Socrates’ Apology
is then quoted, where he says to the judges: “But you shall hear
from me nothing but the truth. Not . .. . speeches finely decked
out with words and phrases,....nor carefully arranged

.’ Chrysostom then remarks that the apostles, who were
unlettered, converted the whole world, whereas the eloquent phi-
losophers could not win over even a single tyrant. Then he adds
the caution: “But let no one think I am laying down the rule that
youths should not be instructed (in profane learning). How-
ever, if anyone gives me a guarantee regarding the necessary
things (1.e., virtue), I would not oppose this being given in the
bargain. For, as, when the very foundations of a house are
rocking and the whole structure is in danger of falling into ruins,
it would be the utmost folly and madness to run to the plasterers

6 Fl. Jahrb. f. cl. Phil. Suppl. XTX (1893), 307.

7 On this general subject cf. A. Naegele.
8 47, 367 ff.

22

and not to the builders: so it were unseasonable pertinacity, when
the walls of a building stand firm and unshaken, to hinder him
who would plaster it.”

This agrees perfectly with the principles of Christian peda-
gogy which insists that moral discipline must ever be the founda-
tion of intellectual training. Far from rejecting the study of
letters, Chrysostom holds it to be a necessary complement of a
perfect education. His quotation of the Apology shows him
taking the same position toward eloquence which Plato assumed
when, as here and in his Gorgias,® he attacks rhetoric in the name
of truth. .Such attacks are aimed not at sane rhetoric, but at its
abuse by the sophists.

It is against the neglect of religious education and the mate-
rialistic principles of paganism that Chrysostom again warns
Christian parents in Hom. XXI, 2, on Ephes.:'° “Let everything
be secondary with us to the provident care we should take of our
children, and to our bringing them up in the chastening and admo-
nition of the Lord..... You will effect nothing so great by
teaching him an art, and giving him that outward learning by
which he will gain riches, as if you teach him the art of despising
VICHES, 4. os Study not to make him an orator, but train him up
to be a philosopher (i. e., in the Christian sense). In the want of
the one there will be no harm whatever; in the absence of the
other, all the rhetoric in the world will be of no advantage.
Tempers are wanted, not talking ; character, not cleverness ; deeds,
not words. .... Whet not his tongue, but cleanse his soul.”
And, as if to forestall all criticism, both contemporaneous and
modern, he adds: “I do not say this to prevent your teaching him
these things, but to prevent your attending to them exclusively.”
It is plain from these words that Chrysostom does not condemn
classic culture, but the baneful products of paganism, an excessive
love of wealth, and indifference to the higher interests of man.

Although he cautions parents against the dangerous effects of
heathen mythology on the tender minds of the young," yet he does
not hesitate to introduce into his sermons reminiscences from
classic literature, poets, dramatists, philosophers etc. in the shape
of comparisons or in confirmation of the truths of Christianity,
e.g.: “For God has so implanted that idea (7. e., of hell) within us,
that no one can ever be ignorant of it. For poets, and philoso-

9 482 a-b, 502 e.

10 62, 150 ff.
11 Hom. XXI, 1, on Ephes.; 62, 150.

ee Se —

23

phers, and fabulists, and in short all men, have philosophized con-
cerning the retribution that is there, and have said that the greater
number are punished in Hades. And if those things are fables,
yet what we have received is not such.” 7”

He defends St. Paul for observing the same policy in quoting
Epimenides,** Aratus, and the inscription of the altar at Athens
in his speech before the Areopagus:** “And as to the question,
why does he cite the testimonies of the Greeks? It is because we
put them most to confusion, when we bring our testimonies and
accusations from their own writers, when we make those their
accusers who are admired among themselves. ... . Thus does
God too, as in the case of the Wise Men. He does not conduct
them by an Angel, nor a Prophet, nor an Apostle, nor an Evan-
gelist, but how? By a star. For, as their art made them con-
versant with these, He made use of such means to guide them.
.... Thus He everywhere condescends.”

On one occasion he deemed it necessary to vindicate his own
position toward Hellenism, as appears from the following: “Let
no one think it an insult to Christ, if, when speaking of Him, we
make mention of Pythagoras and Plato, Zeno and the Tyanean ;
for we do it not of our own inclination, but to accommodate our-
selves to the weakness of the Jews.”1® Then he appeals to the
example of St. Paul and to God’s manner of dealing with the
Jews.

And who is not surprised to hear this stern interpreter of Holy
Writ voice his appreciation of the charm of Greek myths: “How
many stories have ofttimes been woven on these subjects (SAtes
kal taAaurwpiac Of ancient rulers)! For nearly all the tragedies of
the stage, as well as the mythical stories, have kings for their
subjects. For most of these stories are formed froin true inci-
dents, for it is thus they please. As, for example, Thyestes’
banquet, and the destruction of all that family by their misfor-
tunes. These things we know from the writers that are without
(pagan historians) : but if you will, I will adduce instances from
the Scripture too.” 7

Chrysostom often presupposes in his hearers an intimate ac-
quaintance with classic literature, as in the largely mythological

12 Hom. IX, 5, on Thessal.; 62, 446.

13 Tit, I, 12.

14 Acts XVII, 28 and 23.

15 Hom. III, 1 and 2 on Tit. ; 62, 677 and 678.
16 Hom. agst. the Jews V, 3; 48, 886.

17 Hom. XV, 5 on Philipp. ; 62, 206.

24

fourth chapter of his Hom. V on Titus,’* and he compliments the
widow of Therasius on her familiar knowledge of examples in
literature and history of men who despised riches: “And you have
no need to learn from me, who these men were, for you know
them better than I do, Epaminondas, Socrates, Aristides,
Diogenes, Crates etc.” ?®

Once he even recommends to his audience the study of the
classic poets, philosophers, rhetoricians, and historians, in order to
gather lessons of practical wisdom: “Read, if you will, both our
own (books) and those without (i.e., pagan writers): for they
also abound in such examples. If you despise ours, and this from
pride ; if you admire the works of philosophers, go even to them.
They will instruct you relating ancient calamities, as will poets,
and orators, and sophists, and all historians. On every side, if
you will, you may find examples.” *°

These unmistakable declarations of the Golden-mouthed
Orator should dispel finally and definitely the false notion of his
hostility to profane literature. In the light of the proofs we have
here briefly sketched, the statement of Puech appears altogether
unwarranted : “On ne trouverait pas chez ce Pére, le plus éloquent
des Péres, un mot en faveur des lettres.” ** In fairness to Chrys-
ostom we must admit that he was large-minded enough to appre-
ciate what was good in pagan culture and that, in quitting the
forum for the pulpit, and the study of literature for that of Holy
Scripture, he did not repudiate his former ideals, but elevated,
purified, and ennobled them. It has been well said of him:
“Chrysostome est le plus beau génie de la société nouvelle, enté
sur l’ancien monde, il est par excellence le Grec devenu chrétien.” *”

But there was a particular phase of Greek culture in regard to
which Chrysostom was plainly hostile, and that was the Sophistic
Rhetoric. We have seen how he emphasized the importance of
virtue and truth before eloquence, how he admonished parents to
train their children in the fear of God rather than to make them
skilled orators. To the sophists, however, virtue and truth were
negligible considerations. All their efforts were bent on a display
of rhetorical and dialectical virtuosity. Hence Chrysostom’s
bitter attacks against them. He frequently glories in the fact
that St. Paul and the other Apostles were ignorant of the “tricks”

198, 2604,

20 Hom, 1 on Thess, 11; 6 i ;

21 St. Jean Chrysostome et les moeurs de son temps, Paris (1891), 124.
22 Villemain, De I’éloquence chrétienne dans le quatriéme siécle, 391.

25

of rhetoric,”* and that they were free from the craftiness and
verbosity of the rhetors, e.g.:** “Thus the expression, ‘I deter-
mined to know nothing,’ was spoken in contradistinction to the
wisdom which is without, ‘For I came not weaving syllogisms
nor sophisms, nor saying unto you anything else than, Christ was
crucified.’ They indeed have ten thousand things to say, and con-
cerning ten thousand things they speak, winding out long courses
of words, framing arguments and syllogisms, compounding
sophisms without end.” Again:*> “The pagan philosophers,
rhetors, and writers, seeking not what is conducive to the common
good, but having in view only that they might be admired, even
when they said something useful, veiled it in their usual obscurity.
Not so the apostles and prophets.”

Chrysostom knew from personal experience the shallowness
and artificiality of sophistic rhetoric. He had passed through the
school of the most accomplished sophist of his day, Libanius. He
had for some time pleaded at the bar with distinction, but had
turned away with disgust from the chicanery and,sham of the
sophistic profession. To see this brand of eloquence introduced
into the churches roused his indignation, which is expressed in
the following sarcastic invective : **

“Many take a deal of pains to be able to stand up in public and
make a long speech: and if they get applause from the multitude,
they feel as if they gained the very kingdom (of heaven) : but if
silence follows the close of their speech, it is worse than hell itself,
the dejection that falls upon their spirits from the silence! This
has turned the Churches upside down, because you do not desire
to hear a discourse calculated to lead you to compunction, but one
that may delight you from the sound and composition of the
words, as though you were listening to singers and minstrels
(xBapwdev Kai xibapiorév) : and we too act a preposterous and piti-
able part in being led by your lusts, when we ought to root them
out. And so it is just as if the father of a poor, cold-blooded child
(already more delicate than it ought to be) should, although it is
so feeble, give it cake and cold (drink), and whatever merely
pleases the child, and take no account of what might do it good;
and then, being reproved by the physician, should excuse himself
by saying, “What can I do? I cannot bear to see the child crying.’
Thou poor, wretched creature, thou betrayer! for I cannot call

23 On the Priesthood, IV, 6; 48, 669; Hom. XIII on Acts; 60, 107.

24 Hom. VI on I Cor. Il, 2; 61, 48. a

s

26 Hom. XXX on Acts XIII, 2; 60, 225.

25 Serm. III, 3 on Lazarus; 48, 904. a xt OF MEDI -

\ 7
i:

*

26

such a one a father... .. Just such is our case, when we vainly
busy ourselves about beautiful expressions, and the composition
and harmony of our sentences, in order that we may please, not
profit: (when) we make it our aim to be admired, not to instruct ;
to delight, not prick to the heart ; to be applauded and depart with
praise, not to correct men’s manners!” He then dwells on the
evil effect of applause on both preacher and people, and suggests
that a rule be established forbidding it. But his protests were of
no avail.?” Even while he pleaded he was interrupted by applause.**
But Chrysostom persisted, adding that if they would heed his
advice, it would greatly benefit them and himself: “So shall we
lay the whole stress of our time and diligence not upon arts of
composition and beauties of expression, but upon the matter and
meaning of the thoughts.” Matters had come to such a pass that
even the pagans reproached the Christians for their love of dis-
play, as we read in the same sermon:?® “On this account are we
evil spoken of even among the Gentiles, as though we did all for
display and ostentation.”

As a young deacon he had already realized the danger to the
preacher from the depraved taste of the public, who attended
sermons as if they were dramatic or musical spectacles, when he
wrote: *° “For the public are accustomed to listen not for profit,
but for pleasure, sitting like critics of tragedies, and of musical
entertainments, and that facility of speech against which we de-
claimed just now, in this case becomes desirable, even more than
in the case of barristers (codwrais), where they are obliged to
contend one against the other.” To “correct this disorderly and
unprofitable pleasure on the part of the multitude,” he suggests
two remedies: “indifference to their praise and the power of
preaching well.”

Chrysostom‘s conduct towards his former teacher Libanius is
typical of his attitude regarding the entire profession of sophists.**
He never mentions him by name and refers to him in general

27 Cf. also 48, 1045, 21; 49, 38, 33; 54, 472, 58.

28 Tb, 226, 36.

29 Tb, 228, 8.

30 On the Priesthood, 48, 675, 7.

31 Neither the anecdote related by Sozomenes (Hist. Eccl. VIII, 2)
to the effect that Libanius, when asked on his deathbed whom he consid-
ered worthy to succeed him, replied: “John, if the Christians had not
stolen him,” nor the letter of Libanius addressed to a certain John, in
which he praises him for a panegyric on the emperor (cited by Isidore of
Pelusium, Ep. II, 42, and wrongly referred to John Chrysostom), can be
regarded as proving any relations of Chrysostom with Libanius. Cf. W. v.
Christ, Griechische Literaturgeschichte, VII, 2, 2, 1218, note 1—We have
no proof of relations of Chrysostom with any other sophist.

27

terms (“my sophist” or, “the sophist of the city”) in only two of
his writings. Once in his letter To a Young Widow,*? where he
records the sophist’s tribute to his mother Anthusa, and again, at
greater length, in his Book on St. Babylas against Julian and the
Gentiles.**> Here he refutes and with strong sarcasm ridicules
Libanius’ monody on the grove of Daphne and the temple of
Apollo at Antioch, both of which had been destroyed by fire.
Quoting passages of the monody, he brands its author as a Opyvwdds
(howler), Aypécodos (babbler),?* and piapés (blackguard),** and
compares him to a tragic actor and a madman.** These scornful
epithets certainly do not argue much esteem for his old teacher,
nor for the profession which reckoned him its most illustrious
member. They can be partly explained by Chrysostom’s abhor-
rence for all pagan worship, of which the sophists were the official
champions and defenders. They are generally placed in the same
category with other enemies of the faith, tyrants, kings, philoso-
phers etc.*”

That Chrysostom was not opposed to a sane and moderate use
of rhetoric, and that he required rhetorical ability in the preacher,
we infer from several passages of his treatise On the Priesthood,
e.g.: “Wherefore it should be our ambition that the word of
Christ dwell in us abundantly (Coll. III, 16)..... This war-
fare is manifold, and is engaged with a great variety of enemies,

. . and he who has to join battle with all must needs know
the artifices of all, and be at once both archer and slinger, captain
and general, in the ranks and in command, on foot and on horse-
back, in sea-fight and in siege.” **

He demands *° that even a preacher of great ability must main-
tain a high standard by constant application and exercise, and
gives as a reason: “The efforts of the former, unless they be espe-
cially wonderful and startling, not only fail to win applause, but
meet with many faultfinders.” In one of his sermons *® he even
remarks that, in order to relieve the strain on the audience, “one
should speak at one time more in the style of debate, at another
in a more panegyrical style.” Now, the latter was the showy

32 48, 60r.

88 50, 560-566.

84 50, 56I.

35 Tb. 562.

36 Jb. 563.

ae 831; 50, 530.

38 48 666, 17.

39 Tb, 48, 674.
40 On Psalm 41; 55, 155.

28

style of the eulogy and the sophists especially aimed to excel in
it; from which we gather that Chrysostom considered a moderate
display of rhetoric as legitimate in preaching. In another ser-
mon *! he justifies the use of figures of speech: “When we have
the care of the sick, we must not set before them a meal prepared
at haphazard, but a variety of dishes, so that the patient may
choose what suits his taste. Thus we should proceed in the
spiritual repasts. Since we are weak, the sermon must be varied
and embellished; it must contain comparison, proofs, para-
phrases, and the like, so that we may select what will profit our
soul,”

Summing up the results of this chapter, we must conclude that
Chrysostom was not a narrow-minded foe of Hellenism, as some
critics would have us believe ; that he was alive to the refining and
cultural forces of pagan literature, and that he favored the en-
listment of profane rhetoric in the exposition of Christian truth.
To overstep the limits of utility or necessity, and to make rhetoric
an end instead of a means to an end, as the sophist rhetors did,
such a policy ran counter to his high conception of the office of a
Christian orator. So much for his theory. We shall now inves-
tigate the practical application of this theory.

41 On the Obscurity of the Prophecies, 56, 165.

CHAPTER III
MINOR FIGURES OF SPEECH

In taking up the study of St. Chrysostom’s style, we shall not
regard it from the more elementary viewpoint of syntax or
vocabulary. We shall treat here only his rhetorical style through
a study of the chief figures of speech that modify it.

The rhetoricians, since Aristotle,’ distinguished two kinds of
style, the A¢éis cipowevn, the paratactical, or disjointed style, in
which the short cola or xéupara of a period were detached, and
the A¢éis xareotpappévn, the jointed style of long rolling periods, in
which the cola were closely joined together forming an organic
whole. Some sophists employed either style in accordance with
the exigencies of the subject they were treating. Thus Gregory
Nazianzen, while proficient in both styles, inclines more to the
choppy style favored by the Asiatic rhetors,? which led Usener® to
speak of “Der rasche Tanz asianischer Kola” in one of his ser-
mons. Chrysostom, like his teacher Libanius, shows a preference
for the periodic style.

Parallelism of form is the most striking feature of both styles
and of artistic Greek prose in general. It requires that each word,
each colon, bear a relation in sound, position, or structure to a
corresponding word or colon of the same or the following period.
Hence that fine balance and symmetry in words, cola, and periods
which the Greeks regarded as the greatest charm of their lan-
guage. To produce this parallelism they employed the so-called
Topyiea oxnpara. Before we discuss these in particular, we must
consider a group of accessory devices used by the rhetors to em-
bellish their style. These are: pleonasm, arsis, epanaphora,
antistrophe, symploke, xvxAos, xAipaé, hyperbaton, alliteration,
paronomasia, oxymoron, and hyperbole.

One of the most rudimentary of these devices is pleonasm,
caused by placing two or several synonymous words or phrases
side by side, which adds ample dignity and splendor to expres-
sion. Chrysostom, whose style is of an Oriental exuberance, uses
pairs of synonyms so frequently, that we quote only more re-

1 Book 3 of his Rhetoric.
2 Norden, Die Antike Kunstprosa II, 566.
3 Religionsgeschichtl. Untersuchungen I, Bonn (1889), 253.

29

30

markable examples; 49, 41, 39: woAéyws éorw dpooKyvos, éxSpos
atvoixos. Both adjectives and nouns form a pair of synonyms.
49, 33, 40: Ti cw kal ti AaAnow ; Saxptwv 6 tapov Kaipds, ody! pywatwv"
Opnvov, odxl Adywv: evy7s, od Syunyopias. This is a remarkable ex-
ample of redundance. The idea of speech is expressed five times,
that of grief twice. Note the threefold arsis, positive—negative.
49, 34, 59: ports ioxydw Siapar ordpa, Kal dvoigar xeiAn, Kal Khoa
yAdrray, kal pnuata mpoéoOa. The idea of speech is expressed four
times. 49, 34, 48: djpuos ebraxtos otto Kal ijpepos, Kal Kabdmep immos
xeiponOns Kal riWacods, det Tais Tov dpxdvTov eikwv yepoiv. We have
here five variations of the same idea. 50, 461, 38: orpardmeda
érayopevos, ayyéAwv Taypata, dpyayyéhwv ovupmopias, paptipwv ppartpias,
dixaiwy xopov’s. A very striking instance is, 50, 580, 22, On St.
Pelagia: rai wap’ éavtis mdvra éredeixvuto, tiv mpobvpiay, 7d Ppdvynpa,
To yevvaiov, 76 BovAnOyvat, Td rpoeA€obar, 76 orrevoa, TO ererxOnvar. The
idea is first stated broadly, then analyzed in graded enumeration,
the first group of three, the next of two, and the last of two syno-
nyms denoting successively the disposition, act of the will, and its
execution.

Another form of amplification is the figure kar’ dpow kat Oéow,
less properly called arsis, which presents the idea first negatively
and then positively, the positive statement being introduced by
d\Ad. This figure is very common. Here is an example of four-
fold arsis, 52, 396, 10:

*AAN’ od Sixacrypiov Kaipods viv, GAN’ éA€ovs*
ovk edOivys, dAAQ piravOpwrias:
ovk eerdoews, GAAG ovyxopnoews*

ov Wnhov Kal Sixns, GAAG oiKTpov Kal xapiTos.

Note the fine balance of this period and the pleonasm of five
synonyms for justice on the negative, opposed to five synonyms
for mercy on the positive side. The most striking example occurs
in 50, 710, 54, where there is an eightfold arsis, followed at 711,
7 by nine more instances of the same figure, separated only by
an occasional introductory clause.

Epanaphora is the repetition of the same word, or words, at
the head of successive cola. Hermogenes informs us that the
sophists employed it with a view to Sewdrys, and ranges it among
the figures that give beauty to style. It should be used with cola,
rather than xéypara, otherwise the effect is one of yopyérys (nerv-
ous energy). It is most emphatic when asyndetic, especially at the

4 Spengel, wepi Wear, 358, 8.

31

head of rhetorical questions. In this form it occurs very often
in Chrysostom. The most elaborate instances are: at the head of
interrogative cola, was . . .. 5 times, 49, 386, 9. Tou .... 8
times in a series of short questions, e.g., mod 6 mAovTos; rov Ta
apyvpepata; mov... . . This series is preceded by five short cola,
each beginning with ére . . . . dre . . . . 52, 399, 12. Jb. 391,
30: mov .... 5 times. Méype wore . . . . 7 times in short ques-
tions, 52, 400, 60. Tis . . . . 5 times with cola of moderate length,
50, 435, 13. Ov dSvtvaca . . . .; 6 times with short questions, 52,
410, 10, and od dvvaca civas . . . .; 7 times in as many questions
followed by five answers each headed by Tévov . . . . in a climax,
52, 410, 22. Mostly in xéppara, not interrogative: drav .... 4
times, followed by rove . . . . also 4 times, 49, 398, 4. Tavrayow
. ... 9 times in an enumeration of nouns, 52, 409, 30. Myfdeis
. 13 times with nouns, 49, 390, 2. EionA@eveis ... . kai...

4 times, followed by dwfAGev cis . . . . kai. . . . 5 times, 52, 409,
38—a very artificial instance. Tvpavvos .... 5 times, heading
clauses of parallel structure, 50, 644, 26. A very remarkable
example is: dd . . . . 10 times, alternating with ee . . . . also
IO times, ¢.g., ade ynpo, éxei od ynpd, d8e Ovnokw, éxei . . . . The
oddest instance we have found occurs in: 52, 404, 23-46, where
Aw ri &AnOy . . . . is repeated 18 times in rhetorical questions,
each followed by an answer, thus: Ad ri éA On 680s ; ‘Iva pdOys, dre,
. . the four first answers headed by tva pdOys 6r.; the other 14

The opposite of epanaphora is antistrophe, which consists in
the repetition of the same word, or words, at the end of suc-
cessive clauses: 52, 402, 50: fyAcver Meds, dpyiLerar @eds, peravoei

@cds, puoei Meds. 52, 398, 26: . . . . vBpify, . . . . UBpions, ... .
vBpioGys (Imperfect). 52,410, 52: ... . ydmov 3 times. 52, 402,
I5:... . Kadeirae repeated 15 times in short xéppara, with poly-

syndeton, e. g., Kai Tlarnp xadeitat, kai 680s KaXdeirau. . . . .

Symploke is epanaphora and antistrophe combined. Few in-
stances of this artificial figure were found. The most striking
one is: 52, 403, 48: wor? . . . . éori repeated I1 times, e.g., wore
yopdy éori, wore Ovydryp éori . . . . a twelfth clause sums up, zavra
éori. 50, 436, 34: onpepov ev yi xapa, onuepov év ovpave xapa. Cf.
52, 495, 35; 59, 435, 33-

The very artificial figure of xixdos occurs when the first clause
of a period begins, and the next or the last clause ends with the
same word: (a—, —a); or (a—, ... ., —-a). Here is a double

32

k0kdos, which is also a twofold instance of the figure called
definitio: 50, 653, 8:

xpnpata yap Su rovro seaDleteis
iva avrois eis d€ov xpipeba,

ovx iva KaTopUTTwper’
KTnpata Su TovTo A€yovTat,
iva jpeis adra xrnowpeba,
kal py avroav yevouela kTnpara.

The first xvcAos is not perfect, because ypyyara is not repeated
in the same form. Note the parallel structure of these two periods
forming a mdpisov. 50, 433, 15: aaAOev 4 vyoreta, GAG peverw %
ebAd Bea: padrAov 8é odd 4 vyoreia ar7ndOe.

Another highly artificial figure is the so-called Bens a repe-
tition of the last word of the preceding clause in several clauses
of the period. A dozen instances were found: 50, 440, 27: ’Aqo
yap yéAwtos edtpareAla, ard edtpareias aicypoAoyia, ard aicxpoAoyias
aigxpa mpdypata, ard mpaypdtwv aicypov KoAdoes Kal tyswpia (three-
fold). 52, 398, 45: Kav yap py waves dxovowor, of hutoes axovcovrar
Kav py of hpices dxovowor, TO Tpitov pépos: Kav py) TO TpiTOV pépos, TO
TéTapTov" Kav py TO TéTaptov, Kav Séxa: Kav py Seka Kav TévTe? KaV pH
mévre, Kav eis: Kav py eis, eyo Tov pucbdy aanpticpevov exw (sixfold).
Ct. 50, 446, 51; 52, 410, 10; 2b. 22.

Hyperbaton is the transposition of words from their gram-
matical order. Three chief varieties occur in Chrysostom:

1) The article is separated from its noun by a long interval.
This form of hyperbaton was thought by the sophists to lend
beauty to style, e. g., 59, 481, 22: Tov otv Ki Exdoryy, os cimeiv, trép
TOV THY OiKkovpEeryV OikoVvTOYV GAyowvvTa. 50, 476, 53: ras év roaovrows
€reot Tov Ilavdov paoriyas.

2) The noun is separated from its possessive or explanatory
modifier, ¢.g., 50, 593, 30: va THs dvacTaoeEws TOV aravpwhévros
Xpirrov 8a tov Epywv rapdcxovra THY awoderEcy.

3) The most frequent form is the interposition of a verb, or
of several words, between a noun and its adjective, e.g., 49, 398,
8: ras Ovoias droAatca ravrys. Often this is done to emphasize a
word placed alone at the beginning, or at the end of the clause,
48, 623, 29: "Hv 8 piv... . cal orovdy epi tovs Adyous, ods
érovotvpeba, pia. 50, 474, 19: SawWtAns F Tov vevpatos eexdOn eis
atrov Swped. Frequently the adjective and noun are thus sep-
arated to set off the consonance of their endings, producing an
effect similar to the homoioteleuton, e.g., 590, 25, 25: Kal tocovrwv

33

yépovea amroppitwv, Kai togavta Kopifovoa ayaa. 49, 398, 9: mH
tparéln mpoowy tavtTn. 49, 397, 42: ob raddw péddovtes tapiotacbat
KEeVvOo. 52, 393, 78: tav dvOpwrivey évvodpeba rpaypdrtov.

Alliteration and paronomasia are figures arising from the
tendency towards symmetry and antithesis. Alliteration signifies
the recurrence of the same initial letter or letters in words gen-
erally succeeding immediately. If the same sounds occur in the
middle or at the end of succeeding words, the figure is assonance.
Chrysostom shows a great fondness for this poetical and musical
figure. Omitting the very frequent instances of pairs of words
containing this figure, many of which may be accidental, we cite
only the more striking combinations:

a) Alliteration, 50, 437, 32: woAAdkis 6 révyns Tov rAOvo.oY TpwTEdet
év TH evoeBeia. 50, 439, 9: atrn dvdoracts draddayyn dpaptnudatwv. 50,
442, I1: rev dyabav arodavcopev TOV aroKElMevwn Tois ayaTa@oW adTov.
50, 637, 32: roryowpev tovs waidas matpadoias du tis mpodocias. 49,
395, 27: apeiAuxros Kai dvévdoros Kai avroaddpas. 50, 437, 51:
mavtaxobev mepippavrilerat, Kal woAAG mpootpi Berar.

b) Assonance, 52, 401, 59: GAdov dxynuate depopevov, onpiKdy
meptBeBAnpevov ivariov, Kopvdovpevov. 49, 383, 18: Aw rtovrov ody
ddxpvoov miuxpov Kal orévatov paddAov. 49, 30, 22: Trav hpetépwv 6pbadrpeav
TO TOoAGOOa THs GOupias.

c) Alliteration and assonance combined, 50, 445, 23: €repds tis
Gov, Kal peoov éavtdv euBadrdov éxatépwov Aver THv ExXOpav. Ib. 38: ras
ov mporepov améoTy mavTa ToWY Kal mdoxwv Kal mpaypaTevopEvos, Ews TOV
moremov. 50, 476, 8: oddty obderote zpos ovdev dvOpemwov wabos exabev
(with paronomasia). 50, 573, 18: odarropévwv, Kaopevwr,
kpynpvitopevov, katarovrifopévwv. 50, 602, 13: mavra Ta péAXovra
mpoopov réppwhev, mpociovra tov wédepov dmexpovero. 50, 636, 3:
pntpos mpocedpia, kal matpds mpdvoi, Kal woAAn Tapa Tov yovewy
ermédeta, yiverat. 50, 636, 55: efaidvys émitdypata movypa mavtaxov
kateréumeto toAAns. 50, 679, 2: qoidov mpocOyKnv kal meovacpov
melovos S0&ys tapecxevace. 50, 637, 18: tore toivwy Tatra émitarrovtes.
50, 530, 26: droovAjoat tov Koopoyv, Kal katadioa To knpvypa. Ib. 37:
THS TOV Tpaypatwv Teipas TavTwv akiomieToTépay TavTyv elvar weTioTEvKa
(with paronomasia). 50, 636, 15: pdprupes atras petagéd Yoddpwv Kai
mavtwv Tov ToAEuiwy ovcat, Kal ToALopKotpevar TavTaxdbev, ovdéy EracxoVv
Sewdv. 50, 686, 36: od yap yonreta éyivero Ta ywopeva.

Paronomasia is based on the similarity of sound of entire
words, irrespective of their relative position in the colon. With
this similarity of sound is combined dissimilarity of sense, thus

34

constituting a play on words, which is most effective when words
most similar in sound are most dissimilar in sense. The various
forms of paronomasia may be grouped under two heads, 1) Words
having the same root:

a) With changes and additions of prefixes, 49, 36, 52: 4
mokvmais dais... . yeyevyta. 49, 41, 2: ebréleav....
modutéAcav. 49, 41, 25: 7d peiLov tis xpelas . . . . Aaxpynorov. 49,
45, 30: dmovov ... . érizovov. 49, 45, 43: dppwornwat.....
eipwota. 50, 447, 1: ovre kataBnvar jv Katorepov, ov katéBy 6 avOpwmos,
ovte dvaBnvat dvorepov, od avnyaye avrov raAw (antithetical parison).
51, 45, 27: dywos ydp éo71, Kal mavdyios Kal d&yiov a&ywrepos. 52, 390,

24: dadvOpwrov .... diddvOpwrov. 52, 413, 5: Kadn....
piroKaAdiav . . . . dopdhos . . . . edpoppov. 52, 409, 16: doeBeias
.... eoeBeias. 52, 304, 22: xabapdv ... . dxdBapros. 52, 404,

17: ovTos TodovTOs Kal THAKOUTOs (a favorite figure of the sophists).
_b) With changes of case (polyptoton), voice, mood, tense
etc. : Instances of this kind are so common that we cite only a few,
52, 397, 48: Meéve eis "ExxAnjoiav, at ob rpodiSoca amd tis *ExkAnotas.
*Eay 82 dvyns dad *ExxAnoias, ovx aitia 4 "Exkdnoia. 50, 637, 30: ro
govevovr. rapadovs rov doveverOar péAXovTa, adtos Tov Pdvov cipydoato.
50, 701, 15: duxeoOar kal py SwwxKew, eAatvverOar, kal py éhavvev ... .
ov oravpicas, GAAL oTavpwheis, od pamicas, GANG pamiobeis. 50, 647,
24: moAXol wodAdkis . . . . moAAOIs. 50, 579, 34: ovdels ovd€emoTE
. ovdey. 50, 581, 41: ovdeniay ovdapofev. 52, 408, 12: obros ody
ovTws.

2) Words of different roots. This form of paronomasia is
called parechesis by some modern writers.> The instances of this
kind are not so numerous, but very artistic: 56, 266, 15 : raiSoxrdvous
dv7l matépwv . . . . dmoxadov. 56, 267, 43: Sd puxpdav Hdovyv Sinvern
Thv ddvvyv tropevere. 49, 383, 28: eis Serriav evdyer Tods pabytas Kai
évaywvious mod. 49, 385, 57: xalapay yew Katnyopias tHv yA@ooar.
52, 392, O61: dvaddoaca . . . . aroAatvoaca. 52, 392, 48: dopddcav
éavtois dua THs ons dywvias. 52, 400, 4I: éyxoma ... . eyxAnpara.
52, 405, 30: iva riv ropvnv rapbevov épydonra. 52, 402, 51: ra pyuata

. 7% vonuata. 52, 401, 43: ov Acyw mpdocwma (persons) adda
mpdypata. 52, 401, 49: éyxadowvra . . . . émawodvta. 52, 397, 60:
KAvdwvi€erar GAN’ od Katamovri€erar. 52, 397, 27: ov Torov povov, dAAG
kal tpdmov. 52, 393, 16: ebredeias . . . . GAnOeias. 52, 3904, 32: py
mouite Towita, iva py waOnre roadta. Ib. 18: dpwaya arrecOa. 50,
439, I1: €wxe ryv petLova, rpoodoKa Kal THyv éAdtrova. 49, 38, 4: TO

5 Cf. J. C. Robertson, The Gorgianic Figures in early Greek Prose, 22,
Baltimore, 1891.

as

—

Qe ee ee

35

dpaptnpa yéyovey GXdiywv, Kai TO €yxAnpa yiverar Kowdv. 49, 40, 24:
Tlds 8é exer rv Krnow, dv Thv xpjow ovk éxe (Said of a miser). 49,
50, 51: oikiay ... . ovciav. 49, 46, 44: dxatayeuorov Kataywy.ov.
52, 417, 4: mepixorre 1O mepitrov. 51, 270, 58: pydey mepaitépw
mepepydlov. 51, 46, 29: ob rpudyv, dAAa tpodyv. 50, 644, 47: Tas
edararnrovs Te Kal ebrronTous yuvaikas. 50, 602, 14: zpoopav moppwbev.
50, 615, 28: tpavorépw (clearer) fOdyyw tov ripavvov jAeyxev. 50,
531, 43: xeivrae dxivyta. 50, 682, 43 ff: Tota yap xowwvia péOy Kai
paxn; yaotpilecOar xai avdpilecOar; . . . . drdifov, pH KadAwrilov:

. avSpiLov, wy paifov. This is the most striking example we
have found. 50, 671, 27: *Exeivoy (the prophet Daniel) pé éis
Adxkov dméxdeoay, rovrov (St. Julian) 8 eis caxxov évéBadrov. 48,
634, 1: Kav Aiwods 7 Kav Aowds (a favorite pun of the sophists). 55,
166, 41: xpvowv inatiov emiKEL EVO Kal UroKeipevov, oomrep év kapivo
Keita Katopevos (Said of a rich man).

Proper names derived from common nouns have generally lost
all special signification. Chrysostom sometimes makes a pun by
drawing on the original meaning of such names, e. g., speaking of
Sts. Bernice and Prosdoce, Martyrs, 50, 638, 17: “They came to
a city called ‘Iepdzods, and thence they verily ascended ¢is rv iepay
modw (i.e., heaven).” In his sermon on St. Drosis (Aposis) who
was tortured by fire, 50, 688, 49: “She looked upon the fire not as
fire, but as dew (8pdao0s).” A pun on the double signification of a
word occurs 50, 709, 1. Chrysostom, a few lines above, has rep-
resented the martyrs on a red-hot gridiron (xAiuaé, which also
means ladder). It reminds him of the ladder seen by the patriarch
Jacob in a dream, and he draws a contrast: “By the one (xAipaé)
the angels descended, by the other the martyrs ascended.”

All these instances of verbal jugglery do credit to Chrysos-
tom’s virtuosity of style, but they also show the artificiality of
sophistic rhetoric.

The oxymoron, or paradox, which is also a sort of pun, marks
a still higher degree of artificiality. It denotes the combination
of two terms apparently contradictory, but which, viewed in the
light of the context, are not incompatible. The oxymoron is,
then, a kind of verbal antithesis. Though occurring rarely in the
classic orators, it was employed with much gusto by the sophist
rhetors on account of its piquant and sensational character.

The Christian orators, whose taste had been formed in the
sophist schools, regarded this figure, which is artistically defective,
as very suitable for setting forth the wonderful and supernatural
character of the Christian religion. The mysteries of the Faith,

36

the sacraments, the miracles, all offered a rich fund of themes,
which were, humanly speaking, paradoxical. That Chrysostom,
with his impressionable nature and sprightly fancy, should mani-
fest a strong inclination for this figure, need not surprise us.

It is highly interesting to note how he adapts one of the most
famous oxymora of the sophists to a spiritual theme. We mean
Gorgias’ figure of eux tador (living graves) to designate vul-
tures, which the author of zepi tous 3, 2, says was much ridiculed,
but which can be traced in Latin literature from Ennius to Ovid,
Metam. VI, 665, and Seneca, Contr. X, praef. 9, and in Greek
literature in Achilles Tat. III, 5, 4,° and in the Christian fathers
down to Gregory Nazianzen.*? Chrysostom uses the figure in
several variations. In his panegyric on St. Eustathius, Martyr,
50, 600, 32, he says to the faithful: “And every one of you here
present is a rddos e€upvyos kal avevpatixds Of the martyr; for if I
unfold the conscience of each one, I find the saint abiding in your
soul.” He continues: “The enemy has gained nothing and has
rather increased the fame (of the saint) by making so many
graves instead of one, living graves, radous gov adiévtas, Tapovs
mpos Tov avrov fiAov wapackevaLopevovs.” This is a hopeless jumble
of metaphors. Speaking of starving mothers who ate their off-
spring,® he says, 50, 523, 33: tov yernPévrwv radiov 4 Texovoa yaornp
éyévero tdgos. Again, 50, 435, 20: “The drunkard, having buried
his soul in his body as in a coffin (é pvnpart), vexpov mepipéper 7d
aopa.” 50, 421, 52: St. Paul and his disciples, who were daily in
danger of death, are called euywyou vexpoi.®

In the majority of cases the oxymoron is formed by combining
a term taken figuratively with one taken literally, e.g., of the
wicked it is said, 50, 663, 4: év €oprais dveoproi ciow. 50, 688, 5:
drav yuvaixes dvdpiLovra, t.e., show a manly courage in suffering
martyrdom. Referring to a religious service held on the sea,
during which lighted torches were employed, Chrysostom says, 50,
700, 43: “Let us again make the sea a Church, xai 16 zip
évvypatvovres, kal 7> BSwp eumiahévres mupds.” Of the good example
of the martyrs he says, 50, 648, 23: EiSere was Suvatwrépa Kat
avydévtov 4 pov) tév paptipwv; Christ descended into limbo (dys),
kai tov GSnv érolnoev obpavdv, which is explained: “For where Christ
is, there is heaven,” 49, 395, 40.

6 Cf. Norden, Die Antike Kunstprosa I, 385.

7 37, 1587. Cf. J. B. Dr nlaiaesy The Apostolic Fathers, Part II, ed. 2,
vol. II (London 1889), 208

8 Jerem. Lament. IV, ig

9 Cf. also 49, 22, 42.

37

Often the oxymoron arises from joining a word taken in the
material sense with another taken in the spiritual sense. Thus the
physical blindness of St. Paul had the effect of converting him
and giving spiritual vision to the world, 50, 487, 14: 4 xypwors éxei-
vou dwticpos yéyove THs oikovpéevyns, and, with double antithesis : *"Exresd)
yap €BXere kaxds, érnpwoev adrov Kadds 6 Oeds, Gore avaBAeWar ypnoipus.
Commenting on I Cor. XV, 31, “I die daily,” Chrysostom asks, 50,
O01, 26: was Suvarov Evi copati OvnTd pupiovs SéEacGar Oavdrovs ; and
explains that the Apostle means his constant readiness to die for
the faith. With reference to Matth. XI, 12: “The kingdom of
heaven suffereth violence,” Chrysostom makes Christ say, 52, 401,
52: "Eye dpracov, xyapw oor éxw rHs dprayys, and adds: “If thou art
minded to lay hold of an earthly kingdom, thou art punished ; but
in the case of the heavenly kingdom, thou art punished if thou dost
not lay hold of it.” 49, 396, 47: dd Oavdrov (t.e., of Christ)
yeyovapev a0avaror.

Sometimes the two terms, which in their ordinary signification
are contradictory, represent two figures of speech not incompat-
ible, e.g., 52, 305, 29: 4 mérpa (i.e., the hearts of the faithful)
yéyove Babdyewos (spiritually productive). 52, 399, 8: 7a érépwv
vavdyta vpiv Apéva Katackevdlwv, 1. e., teaching you to avoid personal
danger by placing before you the disasters of others.

The scenes of martyrdom present situations favorable to the

paradox, e.g., 50, 614, 2: Chrysostom addresses the tyrant and
bids him cut out the tongue of St. Roman, in order that he may
recognize human nature xal dyAwooor trép Xpicrov pytopevovcav. He
then relates how the martyr miraculously retained his speech
after his tongue had been cut out, and exclaims: @éapa xawov Kat
mapddoéov- (Chrysostom’s favorite introduction to a paradox)
adpkwos capkivois dodpxus Pbeyyopevos. This oxymoron is due to the
figurative use of dodpxws for dyooous.
In the discourse On St. Drosis, Martyr, we find a series of
three oxymora, 50, 688, 43: airy paveioa paviav... . macys
swdppootvys cenvorépay: Chrysostom explains the meaning of pavia
by stating that the martyr was ravished with longing for Christ,
so that, odStv trav 6pwuéevwv Espa, and she considered the fire ody! zip,
GAAG Spdcov. Here is an oxymoron which misses the mark, be-
cause the two terms are in no wise contradictory : On St. Domnina,
mother of Sts. Bernice and Prosdoce, Virgin Martyrs, 50, 644, 22:
pantnp Noaca rapbeviay cis yéveow trapbévov.

38

The Sacraments, with their spiritual efficacy, lend themselves to
paradoxical treatment: Commenting on Ephes, V, 18: “And be
not drunk with wine, wherein is luxury: but be ye filled with the
holy Spirit,’ Chrysostom says: 50, 435, 53, Atrn % Kady pen:
Kdpwoov cov THv Yuxnv To Ivedpart, and then he refers to the chalice
of the Blood of Christ: “Eorw: juiv rornpwov péOns Kadov... .
swppootvyy rowiv, ov rapdAvow. Applying Matth. 1V, 19: “Come ye
after me, and I will make you to be fishers of men,” to the Sacra-
ment of Baptism, Chrysostom exclaims, 50, 436, 46: “Verily a
new mode of fishing! the fishermen (ordinarily) draw the fish out
of the water (é«BddAovow), but we throw them into the water
(éveBdAAopev), and thus catch the fish.” Of the waters of Baptism
he says, 50, 440, 12: “A new mode of cleansing. In bodily
cleansing the more are washed, the filthier the water gets, but here
(i.e., in Baptism) the more are washed, the cleaner the water
becomes.”

The oxymoron is at times presented in the form of a so-called
aivypa or riddle, which consists in obscuring the idea by repre-
senting it as impracticable or substantially impossible, e.g., re-
ferring to the calamity at Antioch, 49, 35, 25: “And now our
calamity has become an enigma; a flight without enemies; an
expulsion of inhabitants without a battle; a captivity without
capture! A similar instance with reference to Christ’s dying for
us on the cross occurs in 49, 396, 50: “Our weapons were not
stained with gore, we stood not in battle array, we received not
wounds, we saw not war, and yet we won the victory! The
contest was the Lord’s, but the crown is ours!”

Chrysostom’s penchant for the paradox occasionally makes
him exceed the bounds of propriety. Thus, in Hom. 2 on Eutro-
pius, the union of Christ with his Church is represented under
various images, 52, 402, 25: “Even so the Church also is called
by many names. She is called a virgin, although formerly she was
a harlot: for this is the miracle wrought by the Bridegroom, that
He took her who was a harlot and hath made her a virgin. Oh!
what a new and strange event! With us marriage destroys vir-
ginity, but with God marriage hath restored it..... Let the
heretic who inquires curiously into the nature of heavenly gen-
eration saying, ‘how did the Father beget the Son?’ interpret this
single fact, ask him how did the Church, being a harlot, become
a virgin? and how did she, having brought forth children, remain
a virgin? (2 Cor. XI, 2.)” After a long digression Chrysostom

39

resumes, and formulates a paradox which is shocking in its bold-
ness, 52, 405, 29: “But as I was saying, 6 rogovros kat tyALKovTOs
éxeOipinoe mopvns. IIdpvys éreOiper 6 eds; Nal, wopvys. Then he
explains: “I speak of our human nature under that name... . .
A man desireth a harlot that he may become a fornicator: but
God that He may convert the harlot into a virgin.” Nothing
could better prove the unsound nature of the paradox. Instead of
tending to lessen the difficulties which the Faith offers to the in-
quiring mind, it rather accentuates all there is in the mysteries of
religion to stagger and disconcert human reason.

The sensational and flashy qualities of the paradox are shared
by a figure closely akin to it, the hyperbole. Indeed, the paradox
is, so to speak, only a more subtle form of exaggeration. The
hyperbole denotes the magnifying of an object beyond its natural
bounds. Like the paradox it is not one of the ordinary habits of
Chrysostom’s style, but is employed only on special occasions and
under the influence of some strong emotion, such as pity, grief,
indignation, or admiration; as when he denounces Libanius’
monody on the grove of Daphne and the temple of Apollo (50,
560-566), calling the sophist a blackguard (ib. 562), and com-
paring him to a madman (ib. 563), or when, in his homily on
Eutropius, he points to the unhappy consul, “who had shaken the
whole world” (52, 394, 63), but who was now clinging to a pillar
of the altar, “more cowardly than a rabbit or a frog” (ib. 395, I).
Such exaggerations are moderate and evoked by sincere feeling,
which makes them appear perfectly natural.

But there are occasions when the preacher lapses into a false
pathos, and tries to communicate to his audience feelings which
he himself does not share. For instance, when he describes the
violent tortures of the martyrs, their heroic fortitude, and the
cruelty of their persecutors, Chrysostom launches into strains of
wild exaggeration. The eulogies on the Maccabees furnish some
typical examples, e.g., 50, 625, 5: The youngest of the seven
brothers “hurls himself into the cauldron, deeming it a divine bath
and baptism, as people whose clothes have caught fire leap into a
lake of cold water; so inflamed was he with longing to join his
brothers.” The mother of the Maccabees had only one fear,
namely, that the tyrant might spare one of her sons and thus rob
him of his crown, and therefore “she all but seized her youngest
son with her hands and thrust him into the cauldron, employing
the exhortation and counsel of words in place of her hands” (50

40

621, 40). Far from feeling the anguish of a mother’s heart at
seeing her sons cruelly tortured, “she exults more than a mother
who decks her sons for their wedding” (50, 626, 4). ‘With all
her senses she perceived the trial of her children: she beheld
them with her eyes, she heard their words with her ears, and with
her nose perceived the odor of (roasting) flesh, which was both
savory and unsavory (note the paradox) : unsavory indeed to the
unbelievers, but to God and to her most sweet!” (ib.) These
extravagant hyperboles, instead of arousing in the audience sen-
timents of admiration, must have excited intense aversion to a
mother represented as so unnatural and devoid of all maternal
feeling.’°

It is easy to understand that, when Chrysostom undertakes to
celebrate the virtues of some saint, the hyperbole receives a promi-
nent place. It was a requirement of the sophistic eulogy that the
merits of the hero be systematically magnified. Chrysostom’s first
panegyric on St. Paul will best illustrate this (50, 473). The
fundamental idea of the discourse is that St. Paul “possessed all
the virtues found in all men, and that in transcendent measure,
yea, even those of all the angels” (ib. 29). The preacher then
enumerates the great patriarchs and prophets of old, Abel, Noe,
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, concluding with David, Elias,
Moses, John the Baptist, and the angels. The distinctive virtues
of each are compared with those of St. Paul, with the result that
the latter is pronounced superior to them all. In his second dis-
course on the same saint (50, 481, 36), Chrysostom remarks that
neither gold, nor adamant, nor even the whole world are worthy
to be compared with Paul. Then he adds: “If then the whole
world is not worthy of him, what is? Perhaps heaven? Nay,
this too is trivial. Because he preferred the love of the Lord to
heaven, the Lord valued him above ten thousand heavens.” Again
in 50, 479, 50: “St. Paul, scourged, insulted, and reviled every-
where, gloried in the fact as if he were walking in a triumphal
procession and setting up trophies everywhere.”

It is hardly necessary to call attention to the bad taste and
artificiality of the instances of the paradox and hyperbole noted
above. Both the oxymoron and the hyperbole are not the exact
expression of an extraordinary situation, or of moderate senti-
ment; on the contrary, their tendency is to distort the just pro-
portions of the facts exposed. Together they form one of the

10On Gregory Nazianzen’s even more extreme treatment of the same
subject cf. Guignet, 244 ff.

41

most objectionable and unartistic traits of sophistic rhetoric, as
we shall point out frequently in the course of this study.

We have in this chapter reviewed some of the minor figures
employed by the rhetors to embellish their style, and have noted
the prominent place they hold in the rhetorical system of Chrysos-
tom. We shall now proceed to examine a class of figures which
even to a greater extent illustrate the sophistic tendencies of
Chrysostom.

CHAPTER IV

SYMMETRY OF THE PERIOD: THE GORGIANIC FIGURES

The figures reviewed in the preceding chapter have not a very
great artistic value as compared with the so-called Gorgianic
figures, the parison, the antithesis, and the homoioteleuton. These
Gorgianic figures are the main factors which contribute to paral-
lelism and symmetry of the period, a distinctive feature of Greek
prose, and notably of oratorical prose. The excessive employ-
ment of these figures was one of the prevailing vices of the Asiatic
and later of the sophist orators. Chrysostom shares this weak-
ness. His desire for symmetrical periods makes him at times
very diffuse, and some of his series of parisa are of tedious length
and monotonous uniformity.

The parison presents two or more successive cola having the
same general structure, often with an exact correspondence be-
tween the respective parts of the cola, e.g.:

With homoioteleuton, 50, 531, 13:

Srov paptipwv pvhwn,
éexet kal “EAAQvov aicxdivy.
With parallelism of ideas, 50, 575, 10:
dmroorhvat pev THs edoe Betas,
abroporjoa St mpos Thy acéBeav.

With paronomasia and homoioteleuton, 50, 616, 57:

ov TocovTov TH KNpuKi POdvwv,
doov TO KnpvTTonEevwy BacKkaivw.
With asyndeton, homoioteleuton at the beginning, and pare-
chesis, 50, 531, 19:
avdppygov Tas Onxas,
avoppvgov Ta é07a,
perdotnoov Tovs vexpovs.

Observe the fourfold hyperbaton, and at the end of the xoppara

four synonyms, three of which are alliterative, 50, 483, 28:
mpos éemOupiay paxn,
6 TeEpl THY yaoTepa TOAELOS,
H mpos Tv piAapyvpiay waparakis,
4 mpos Tov Ovpov wadn.
42

43

The repetition of zdvra at the head of the pairs of synonyms
gives to this remarkable enumeration the character of a parison,
52, 415, 27:

Ildvra OoptBwv yepe Kai tapax7s,
mévTa oKoTeAot Kal Kpyjtvol,
mavra thador Kal omidrAddes,
mdavra poBou Kai xivdvvor Kat troy Kal Tpopor Kal aywvia.
With contrast of ideas and homoioteleuton, 50, 476, 39:
TOU pev 4 oikia mavre eOoyte avewKTo,
tov 8¢ » Wuyn don TH oikovpevy rhwTO.
In the following description of Lazarus coming out of the
tomb, note the polysyndeton and homoioteleuton, 50, 643, 54:

kal 6 StadedAvpevos opOoi7o,

kal 6 ceontas noOdvero:

6 vexpos drpnkovev,
- Kal 6 Seaperns Etpexer,
kal 6 Opnvovpevos éoxipta.
With epanaphora and homoioteleuton, 52, 399, 49:

6 BovAdpevos arorepveTo,
6 Bovddpevos AGalerw,
6 BovdAdpevos puceito.

With paronomasia, 50, 640, 45:

Svvavrar yap Kai OnKat paptipwv wodAnv éxew Svvapy,
dorep ovv Kal Ta d0Ta TOV papTipwv TOAAHY ExEL THY ioxdy.

Three words are repeated in the second colon, and a synonym
is used for dvvayv for the sole purpose of forming a parison.

Note the series of synonyms producing a strong parallelism of
thought in the following, 49, 59, 54:
"Edy py repacpos, ovdt arépavos,
cay py madaicpata, ovde BpaBeia,
civ py oKdppara, ovde Tia,
cay pn Orifis, od8€ aveois,
dv pu xELav, ovde Oépos.
A very artificial period, with double epanaphora and climax,
52, 410, 10: On the various ways of life leading to salvation:
Od Svvacat 8a wapOevias civedOeiv ; EicedOe 8a povoyapias.
Od Svivaca da povoyapias ; Kay di devrepoyapias.
Od Svvaca bia cwodpoovyys <icedOeiv ; EiceAGe 81a eAenpoodtyys.
Od Svvaca dia eAenpoorvyys ; EicedAGe 8a vnoreias.
Od Svvacae tavTyv ; Acdpo éxeivyy.
Od Sivaca éxeivnv ; Acipo ravryv.

44

A powerful series of rhetorical questions, the effect of which
is er by double epanaphora with asyndeton, 56, 267, 6:
: Odx évreifey oikwv avarporat ;
ovk evreibev cuppoovtvys areXeLa ;
ovk évredbev ydpwv Siaipéces ;
ovK évrevbev woA€Ewor Kal pdxaL ;
ovx evrevOev andiar Adyov ovK Exoveat

With epanaphora and homoioteleuton in the two leading cola,
50, 621, I:
Ody Espa rapiectaétas Sypiovs,
GAN’ Ewpa kukdovvras ayyéAovs,
éreAdbero TaV wdivwY,
katedppovnce THs Picews,
Umepeide THs HAuKias KTA.

Prolonged symmetry, with perfect parallelism of cola, and
polysyndeton, 50, 663, 26:
kal ote oixérnv Seomdtou PdBos Katéoxev,
ovTE TEVYTA 1 THS TTWXElas avayKN,
»” A ~ € , a ,
ovTE yypatov THS HALKias 4 acbEvea,
” ~ ‘ ~ 4 i A
ovTE yuvaixa TO THs PioEws aradov,
ove rAOVoLoV THS TEpLovotas 6 TUos,
ov Tov dpxovra THs eEovotas 4 amovowa.

Note also, 52, 443, 52, a parison consisting of 11 short xoppara,
with chiasmus in the two first members :
iva pd@nre tov 2oOov Tis “ExxAnoias,
pdOnre Tov euav TéxYvOV THY evyEevelaY,
Tov oTpaTioTov THv ioxdv KTA.

Ordinarily the corresponding parts of the cola in a parison
follow one another in the same order ; however, at times Chrysos-
tom shifts or reverses the order of words, thus producing a less
rigid, but more elegant and varied parallelism. This device is
called chiasmus, e. g., 52, 395, 29: étpa yéyove Baldyeuos, kat Avrapa
Hh xepa. 49, 395, 33: Hi xal 76 Acyopevov ev, GAA Surdovv 76 voodpevov.

Note how the position of the adjective and its noun is shifted
in the following example: 52, 407, 27: Hi péyas 6 Onoavpds, Sa ti 7d
oxevos aobevés; “AAG pH Sia TovTO dobevéis 7d cKevos, ereidyn péyas 46
Onoavpés.

Note the position of the adverbs in 52, 403, 19: ‘Pyyard éorw
evravOa, exe S¢ rpaypdrov piois.

EE a a eT re

45

We cite a period each member of which is composed of a verb
(A), and its object complement (B), 52, 443, 38:
A.B. *EééBades tov rowpeéva,
B.A. ré tiv ayéAnv Stéoracas 5
A.B. *Aéornoas tov xuBepynryy,
B.A. ri rods olaxas KxaréxAacas ;
B.A. Tov dparedoupyov e&€BaXes,

B A Y MOR, Vote: , ed | »
.A. Tt Tas aparéXovs aveoracas ;

We need hardly call attention to the rhythm and geometrical
design of this series of rhetorical questions, rendered more forcible
by asyndeton.

The following period shows Chrysostom’s virtuosity in the
enumeration of xéupara, a fine illustration of the choppy style of
the Asiatic school; 50, 485, 24, on St. Paul:

Kai yap dorep thy oikovpévny aracay yevvncas,
ovtws CopuBeito, odtws Etpexer,
otro mavtas éorovealey cicayayeiv eis THv Bacwreiar,
Oeparedwv, mapaxadov, tricxvovpevos, edydpevos, ixerevov,
tovs Saipovas doBav, trois Siadbeipovras éAadvuv,
Sia rapovoias, Sa ypappdrwv, da pnudtov,
dia mpayparov, 8a pabynrav,
&‘ éavrod rovs rimtovtas dvopbav, tods Eotatas ornpiluv,
Sieyelpwv rovs xapat Keipevous,
Geparredwv Tovs cuvTeTpispéevous,
dArcipwv Tods pabvpodvtas,
poBepov éuBoay emi trois éxOpois,
Spud Br€xwv emi Tois toAepious:
Kabdrep Tis oTpaTnyos 7) GpioTos iatpos,
abrés oxevoddpos, aités tracmorys, adtds trepaomioTys, adTos
TapacTatns,
airos rdvta ywopevos TO oTparorédy.

Such periods are exceptional in Chrysostom, but frequent in

Gregory Nazianzen.*

The following is a highly artificial period, with almost perfect
symmetry of cola, concluding with a threefold arsis, in which
three verbs of the preceding cola are repeated; it is a fine ex-
ample of pleonasm, the six cola being variations of one idea, which

1 Cf. Norden, 566.

46

is powerfully emphasized by the arsis. Also note the homoio-
teleuton, 49, 59, 27:
Ava rovto ebyapitoTo TO Oe@ pel? dyer,
Ort otk yAeyéev tpov THY pirocodiay 7 cvpdopa,
ovde e€€Avoev tpov Tov Tovov 6 ddBos,
ovdé eoBecev vpov Th mpoOvpiay 7 Orns,
ovdé éudpavev tpav Tov Cidov 6 Kivdvvos,
ove évixnoe Tov rept Dedv 7dHos 6 Tov dvOpirwv PdBos,
ovde karéBarev tpov THv orovdny 7 Tod Katpod SvoxoXia.
Kal od povov ov katéBadev, GAAG Kal éréppwoer,
ov povov ovk e&éAvoev, GANG Kal éxérewwer,
ov povov otk éxBecev, GAG Kal avnwe rAéov.

To illustrate Chrysostom’s fondness for symmetrical periods,
we refer to his discourse On the Holy Martyrs, where we found
a long series of parisa extending from 50, 710, 45—7II, 21, con-
taining fourteen cases of arsis; also to a series of twenty-seven
successive clauses of parallel structure, grouped in three periods,
49, 399, 3I—51, in the discourse On the Cross and the Robber.

The comparison furnishes Chrysostom a welcome occasion for
a display of parallelism, as exemplified in the following descrip-
tive and poetical contrast between a garden and the Holy Scrip-
tures. A musical effect is imparted by the double epanaphora and
an occasional homoioteleuton, 52, 396, 65:

"Exel pev yap éotw avOn papatvopeva,
evrav0a S¢ vonpata axpalovra:
exei Lédupos véwv,
évrav0a Sé Ivevparos aipa-
exci dkavOar rerxiLovoar,
éevrav0a S& rpdvora @eor 4 aapadiLopevy:
éxei Térruyes dOovres,
évrav0a 5& rpopyrat KeAadovvres*
éxel Tépis amd THs deus,
evravla Sé apéAea ard THS dvayvocews* KTH.

In the following comparison on the tortures of the martyrs,
Chrysostom selects two different aspects of the subject, in order
to develop a double comparison, the elements of which exhibit a .
strong contrast and symmetrical structure. The parallelism is
alternative, therefore more artistic, 50, 706, 48:

*Av piv tov ywopuévon thy diow iBys,
paxn Kal mddenos Kal mapdragis TH ywvopeva"
dv 88 rhv yvepuny Tov ywopevwn eeraons,
Xopat Kal Paria kal ravyydpes Kal peyiorn Hdovn Ta TeAovpeva.

47

Note the chiasmus in the two subordinate clauses, the syno-
nyms, and the double homoioteleuton.

This last example illustrates the most artistic form of parison,
namely, the antithetical parison, which expresses a contrast of
ideas. The sophists set a high value on this figure, because it con-
tributes to clearness and pleasure. Moreover, if we bear in mind
that the character of Christian doctrine strongly favors the anti-
thetical expression of thought, and that the Old as well as the
New Testament abounds in antitheses, we can understand Chrys-
ostom’s preference for this figure. He is, however, more moderate
in its use than Gregory Nazianzen.?

We quote only the more remarkable instances found in Chrys-
ostom. Note the pleonasm produced by the four pairs of
synonyms in 52, 396, 25:

“Qorep yap tov pov Kal drdvOpwrov drootpéperat Kai puoci,
ovtw Tov éXenpova Kal PiavOpwrov mpocierat Kai prAci.

A series of four antitheses with chiasmus, 52, 417, 10:

é€v Tals evnpepios, éAmile tas Svonpepias:
év TH yaAnvyn XELpava mpocdoxa*
€v TH Uyeig vooov avapeve
ev T@ TAOUTH Teviay Kal TTwxXeiav EAmiLe.

The artistic effect is highest when there is parallelism of
structure in complex cola, the respective parts of which are anti-
thetical, e. g., 50, 596, 15:

“Qore aract xpnopos 6 Onoavpds,
€miTndeLov TO KaTaywyLoV, —
Tois pev ertakdoty, iva draAAayaor Tov TELpATLOV,
tots 8¢ ednpepovow, iva BéBara adrois peivy Ta Kadd-
Tois pev ev dppwortia, iva mpds vyleay éravéAOwor,

- ¢ , 9 8 5 , ,
TOLS se vylalvovcly, LYa Py TpPOS dppwotiav KQATATECOWOLYV.

Another finely balanced period occurs in 50, 692, 43:
“Qorep yap kal éxi trav edepyeroupévor,
\ € . / lA - —
kal oi pndty mabdvres ovvndovrat Tois rafovor,
kal Tov €0 TOLnOaYTA éraLvovoW
LA ; en ~ > id
ovTws eri Tov éexnpeafomevwv
kal of pydey 7dixnpevor cvvadyovot Tois Kax@s TerovOoat,

Kal Tov wovnoavta KaxiLovot.

2 Cf. Guignet, 122 ff.

48

A symmetrical period in a contrast between the grave of Laza-
rus and the graves of the holy martyrs Domnina, Bernice, and
Prosdoce occurs, 50, 644, 4:

Tddos exe Kal tddos évrav0a:
GAN’ 6 pev Tov Aakdpov tapos avovyopevos -
THv Tov Xpiorod Svvapw eudavi€er,
6 8& Trav yuvaiKav Taos Kexeropevos Kal évepyov —
THY TOV Swrnpos yapw Kypvrret:
éxei vexpos irép pvow Tov tddov éxtpéexor,
évraila yuvaixes rapa piow rois tapos tpootpexovow*
exei Oeias Suvdpews onpeiov
évravla mpoaipécews yevvaias TeKmnpiov
(Here two cola of the text are mutilated)
éxel pera Tov Odvarov avaBiwors, Kat éevravba Loy:
éexet Odvatos Biaiws Anoreverat,

évtavla Odvaros mpodnAws mareira.

Note the double epanaphora, double polyptoton, paronomasia,
homoioteleuton, and chiasmus in the above.
Contrast between truth and error, 50, 496, 5:
Tovovrov yap % mAdvy, Kai pyd€évos évoxdodvTos, Katappéi,
Tovovtov 4 GAnGea, kai roA\AGv woAcuovvTuwv, Sieyelperat.
On the vicissitudes of life, 50, 599, 4:
O pev Ud THs ebnpeplas mpds 7d tos exnpOn,
6 8¢ ixd Svompayias eis OAD KarnvexOn Babos.
Note the hyperbaton in the second colon.
Contrast between the hardships of this earthly life and the
rewards of the life eternal, 50, 667, 58:
Av& rovto Tovs pev révovs ovvexAnpwoe TH Bpaxei Kal mpockaipw aidv.
rods 5& orepdvous érapetoato 7H &ynpw Kal dbavdtw.
The purpose for which God grants:riches is expressed in this
antithetical arsis, 49, 43, 44:
ovx iva KataxAelons émt 6d€éOpw TO oO,
GAN’ iva éxxéns eri owrynpia TH on.
The fickleness of wealth, 49, 41, 37:

lA ~
ONPEpov pera Gov,

\ ~
Kal avpiov Kata cov.

49

The tree of Paradise and the tree of the Cross, 49, 396, 36:
Tlepi 76 S€vdpov Katnywvicato tov *Adap 6 ddBodos-
TEpl Tov oTavpov KaTerdAawwe Tov SuaBodov 6 Xpiotos: °
kat €vdov TO pev Exepzrev eis GSyv,
70 8 kai Tovs dmeAOovras éxeiev dvexadeiro.
IldAw &ddov 76 pev tov aixuddwtov yupvov Expvye,
70 8é tov viKérny yupvoy éd” tWyAovd racw eeixvv.

The consequences of the death of Adam contrasted with the
effects of Christ’s death, ib., 43:

Kai @dvatos 6 peév rods per’ adrov Katéxpwvey,
6 88 Kal rods mpd adrov yevopevous avéoryoe.

The corporal and spiritual death and resurrection of man con-
trasted with the death and resurrection of Christ. Note the double
antistrophe, the threefold paronomasia, polyptoton, and the four-
fold hyperbaton, 50, 438, 42:

AurAovv amebdvopev tpeis Odvarov,
ovxovv SixAqv mpoodoxnowpey Thy avacTacw ;
Airos dadovv aréGave Oavarov,
dua TovTO Kal dwAjnv avéoTn avdoraow.

Our burial with Christ in Baptism, and our resurrection with
Christ through Baptism (Rom. VI, 4); note the homoioteleuton
at the beginning, and the polyptoton at the end of the cola, 50,
439; 7:

ovveradypev yap atte év TO Barriopati,
kat ovvnyepOnpev atte 8a tov Barticparos.
The lot of Adam contrasted with that of Job, 52, 400, 6:
Ti apéAnoe éxcivov 6 tapddewos ;
7 Ti EBAawWe TovTOv 4 Kompia ;

The death of Lazarus and of Dives, 49, 72, 33:

Ti roivey wapéBAaev adrov 7d Biaiws arobaveiy ;

ti 8& tov wAovowov Gvyce TO py Biaiws drobaveiv ;
Note the chiasmus.

The Church’s idea of a slave and a freeman; observe the
double paronomasia and hyperbaton, 50, 437, 49:
GX’ exeivov olde SovAov 4 Tpadn rov rH dpaptia SedovAwpevov.

kal éxeivov oldev eXevOepov Tov vd THs Oeias yapitos AEvIepwpevor.
St. Paul’s apostolic labors; with paronomasia, 52, 409, 16:
tas dxdvOas avatépvev tis aceBetas,
Ta oréppata kataBddAwv THs edoeBeias.

50

The grandeur and perpetual youth of the Church, 52, 402, 6:
Tov otpavod vWrorépa éoti,
THS ys wAaTUTEpa eariv.
Oddérore ynpa,
det 8¢ dxpale.
St. Timothy’s solicitude about his soul and his mortification of
the flesh ; note the hyperbaton in the last colon, 49, 21, 26:
*Aobeveitw, dyol, TO cpa,
kal pn aodeveitw 4 Wyn,
xadwotcbw 4 cdpé,
kal pn éurodi€écOw 6 mpos Tov ovpavdy ths Wuy7s Spdpos.
The hospitality of Job contrasted with the spiritual charity of
St. Paul, 50, 476, 29:
‘A yap éxeivos wepi rovs THv odpka rernpopévous éredetkvurTo,
TavTa ovTOs wept TOds THY Wrynv AchoBnpEvous Exparre.
Contrast between the Feast of the Ascension and Pentecost ;
note the xvxdos and the chiasmus, 50, 456, 40:
Kai yap 4 pvots 4 herépa mpd d€éxa jpepwv eis tov Opdvov avéBy Tov
BaowX:xdr,
kal 70 IIveipa 7d ayiov katéBn onuepov mpos Thy piow Thv jerepar.
The bounty of the Master and the perfidy of Judas, 40,
389, 31:
‘O Acordrns etpede,
kat 6 80vAos éximpacker.
Jesus betrayed and Judas the betrayer, 49, 381, 61:
‘O pev yap mpodobeis "Inaots rnv oixoupéevyy eowoer,
6 8& apodods “Iovdas thy éavrod Yuyxnv arddeoe
kal 6 pev mpodobels “Inaots év SeEa tov Ilatpds év obpavois canta,
6 8& mpodods “Iovdas ev adov viv éort.
The self-abasement of the God-man is expressed in 52, 406,
10:
Keirat év harvy 6 rhv oixoupevny Baordtur,
kal éomapydvota 6 mévTa mepieTov.
Contrast between man and God, whom he is bidden to call
Father, 51, 44, 21:
; 6 ynivos Tov odpanor,
6 Ovntds tov GOavaror,
6 Pbaptos tov dpbaprov,
6 mpooKatpos Tov aidvor,
6 xGés kal rpinv mndds, TOV OvTa mpd TaV aidvoy Bedv.

51

The antithesis degenerates at times into the paradox. As
already noted in our last chapter, this figure tends to produce
obscurity rather than clearness, because it contrasts terms which
are only apparently, but not really contradictory; e.g., note this
paradox on wealth, 52, 399, 2:

@npiov éotiv 6 wAovTOos:

av pev katéexyntat, pevye

av 8 oxoprifnrar, péve.

In confirmation(!) of this statement, Chrysostom cites Ps.
III, 9: "Eoxépmice yap, pyoiv, e&wxe trois révnow, 7) Sixaoc'vy adrov
peéve eis Tov aiova. Then he resumes the paradox:

Skdpmiov, iva peivy:
py katopvéns, iva py dyn.

This is the kind of verbal jugglery to which the sophist rhetors
sometimes resorted in order to obtain an oxymoron. Chrysostom
has applied the two verbs, which in the Sacred Text pertain to two
different terms, to one term, 7. e., wealth.

On the peace of soul that results from the reading of Holy
Scripture, 52, 397, 13:
‘H Oadaoca paivera,
ov 8€ peta yadHvys tAées.
With reference to Matth. XI, 12: “The kingdom of heaven
suffereth violence,” 52, 401, 50:
Ti dpralas tov wévyta tov éykaXovvra ;
“Apracov tov Xpiotov tov éxawvoivra.
Human nuptials and the nuptials with Christ, 52, 402, 28:
“2 xawov Kai rapaddgov rpaypartov,
Tdpos rap’ jyiv wapbeviav Ave,
yapos rapa Oem rapHeviay avéoryoe.
Tlap’ jjpiv 7 otca rapbévos, yapoupéevn, odk Eat. rapbévos:
rapa Xpite 1 otca mwopvn, yapoupevyn, mapbévos yéyovev.
God’s desire and man’s lust, 52, 405, 37:
4 éemOvpia tov avOperov, adrddea THs éexiOvpoupéevys:
4 9 émBupia tov Oeov, cwrypia tH emOvpovpevy.
Persecution can not destroy the flock of Christ nor the
branches of the Vine, 50, 616, 33:
emi ys TO Troipyov, Kal 6 Towaivwy év oipave-
emt ys at kAnparibes, Kai év ovpave@ % apzredos:
av 8& éxréuns tas kAnpatidas, toAuTAacidles THv dyzedov.
Note the chiasmus.

52

Contrast between real war and the spiritual warfare against

the heretics, 50, 701, I:
TOLOVTOS ‘yap Huaov 6 TOAELOS*
ovk dnd Caévrwv vexpods épydlerat,
GAN’ dard vexpov Cavras katackevager.
Death of the body and death of the soul, 49, 71, 42:
Ovx oicba, or
oi év duaptiats dvres, Kav Coow, aréOavov-
of 8é év Sixavootvy Cavres, Kav drobdvwor, dor;

Contrast between the waters of Creation and the waters of

Baptism, 50, 439, 42:
*Eényaye tore ta data ixOas dAdyous Kal apwvous,
e&€Bare viv ixOdas AoyiKods Kal wvevpatikods,
ixQias t76 Tov drocTéAwy dALevbévras.

The method of the ordinary fishermen and that of the spir-

itual fishermen, 50, 439, 48:
of dAvevovtes ex TOV VddTwWY exBdAXAOVEW,
hpeis eis Ta VOata éeveBddAopev,
kal oUTws HAvevoaper.
Note the polyptoton and paronomasia in the above.

The spiritual victory of the martyrs is represented in this
series of paradoxes, 50, 708, II:
Tis otk dv éxrAayein, dru
6 paoriopevos mepryéverar Tov pacriLovros,
6 Sedeuevos Tov AeAvpevov,
6 KaTakalopevos TOU KalovTos,
6 dmoOvnoKwv Tov avatpoivTos ;

The power of death and the weakness of man before the
Redemption contrasted with the strength of man and the weak-
ness of death which is a result of Christ’s victory over death, 50,
629, 61:

Oddev ioxupdrepov exeivov Td mpdTEpov, ayamnTe,
kal ovdéev dobeveorepov par:
GAA viv ovddév éeotw aobevectEepov exeivor,
kal ovdev icxupdrepov Amor.
Hides ras dpiorn 4 petdoraots yéyove ;
mas Ta ioxupa aobevn éroinoe,
kal Ta, dabevn ioxupa Kateoxedacey 6 Meds . . . «5

This kind of antithesis was called conversio.

Thus we have seen that Christian dogma favored and, to some
extent, justified the employment of certain figures, the sophistic

53

character of which is generally recognized. The antithesis is one
of these. Chrysostom as a rule is moderate and discreet in its
employment, and it imparts clearness to his exposition of doc-
trine. Occasionally, however, he formulates antitheses which are
only verbal and not real, but such instances are exceptional.

There.is one more rhetorical device, classed among the Gor-
gianic figures, which the rhetors regarded as the complement of
artistic symmetry, and that is the homoioteleuton, a kind of rhyme,
produced by the recurrence of the same final syllables at the end
of succeeding cola. It is a musical and poetical element of style,
and its effect is very marked, especially when it is combined with
other Gorgianic figures. Chrysostom uses it lavishly as well in
asyndetic xoypara as in lengthy cola. We have already cited nu-
merous instances in this chapter. The assonance of final syllables
is evident in the following examples: 56, 267, 4:

Ta. pnyata, Ta BAEupata, TA oxNpaTa, Bdd.ois, 6 prOpds, % SidKpwors,
Ta péAn TH TOpViKd.
52, 409, 20: IIpos @paxas, rpds Sxvbas, rpos “Ivdods, zpos Mavpovs,
mpos Lapdovious, zpos Torfovs, zpds Onpia aypia, Kal peréBadn wavta.
50, 494, 17: awd rev oikiov, dard Tov TOAEwV, Grd TOV aypov, ard TIS
> , x oe | ~ e ¢ : Pe ~ 3 / ar % ~ 2 , . RA! ~
épynpias, ad tév “EXAnvov, ard tov “lovdaiwv, ard TaV apxovTwV, aro TOV
Gpxopévov, ard tov ovyyevav, ard THS yns, and THs OadrdrTys, ard Tov
Baotrevovrwv, kal . . . . eaypiovvtwv, Kal . . . . émitiepévor.
49, 40, 51:
> ‘ / S ~ ~ BR
od yap TepiecKore THv TOU Seivos oixiay,
ovde repteipydlero THy Tov Seivos ovciav.
Here two pair of synonyms are employed, and rod Seéivos is re-
peated for the sole reason of formulating a parison with homoio-

teleuton. The same design is apparent in many of the examples
cited in this chapter.

50, 645, 42:

Ei yap oi epi ra Oé€atpa peunvores,
Kal mpos THY TOV immwv GytAdav KExNVOTEs.

In the following instance the hyperbaton produces a homoiote-
leuton also at the beginning ; note the assonance of endings in the
middle of the cola, 50, 531, 23:

Eévous 6 Saipwv tupBwpryias eiodye vopous,

\ Xs , > ~ ,
KQ@L KQLVOUS EevnAacias €TLVOEL TPOTOUVS.

54

In the following example there is an excessive use of asso-

nance in final syllables, 52, 396, 25:
“Qomep yap Tov Gpov Kal adrdvOpwrov dmootpéperat Kal pucei,
ovtw Tov éXenpwova Kai pirdvOpwrov mpocierar Kal purei.
2, 411, 48:
eis TA TapovTa, Kal eis Ta pedAAOVTA"
eis TA Opwpeva, Kal eis TA GKOVOpEVa"
eis Ta Sedopéva, Kal eis TA MiTTEVOpEVA.
52, 401, 41:
Tov dAdotpiov py éembiper,
THY XNpAV LH YouvoOoys,
Tov é6ppavov py apracys,
Thv oixiav pn AdBys

The effect of the homoioteleuton is heightened by epanaphora
in 50, 599, II:

Oix €orw éxei petaBorj7rs cixov
ovK €or. TpoTAS amooKiacpa,
navra b€ mernyora Kal axivyta,
mavra BéBava kal idpupéva,

navra ap0apta Kal a0dvara
mavtTa aKnpata Kal dei Siapeévovra.

The following prolonged series of homoioteleuta is part of a
passage quoted in our second chapter (p. 26), in which Chrysos-
tom denounces those preachers who “idly busy themselves about
beautiful expressions and the composition and harmony of their
sentences, in order that they may please, not profit” their hearers.
This example well illustrates that Chrysostom’s theory is some-
times at variance with his practice, 60, 226, 12:

OTws HOMpEV, OdX THs HPEerAnOwpED,

orws Oavpacbdper, ody Srws SiddEwper,

Orws TEepPwpmev, OVX Orrws KaTavvewper,

Omws KpoTnOapev, Kat éraivov TvxXOvTes déAPuper,
ody Orws Ta 7On prOpiowper.

Assonance of the final syllables at the beginning of the cola
heightens the effect of this series of homoioteleuta, 50, 447, 54:
OTav Kat Gvuv avatcOnroreEpot,
kal Boov dAoywrepor,
kal xeOdvos Kal Tpvyovos Gyvwpoverrepot,
kal puppnKkov aovverorepot,
kal ALMwv avarcOnrorepor,

kal Ohewy ioor hawopeba.

ra,

Oe Fe Ee

55

A similar series occurs, 51, 44, 38.

A very long series of rhetorical questions and answers on the
sufferings and the fortitude of Job, forming the figure called
hypophora, occurs in 52, 400, 9. The artistic effect of the numer-
ous homoioteleuta is increased by the parisa and double epanaph-
ora. Note the chiasmus in the last six cola, which is designed
to relieve the monotony of this excessively long series of parisa:

Od 7a xphuata adrov edaBev;
*"AXNG tHv eboéBeav odk éovAnoer.
Od rods raidas adrov Hpracev ;
"AAAG THY rioTW ovK éoddevoer.
Od 76 copa adrod d:éppyéev ;
*AAAG Tov Pyoavpov ody cdper.
Od rH yovaixa adrov dre ;
*AXNAG Tov oTpaTioTyy ody brecKéALoEV.
Oix €Badre roa Kai Bédn;
"AAXAG tpadpara ovk éd€Earo.
Tpoonyaye pyxavnpara,
GAG TOV mipyov ovK EceLcEY ;
érnyaye Kvpata,

GAXAG TO TAOLOV Od KaTEToVTICE.

Another series of homoioteleuta of monotonous length occurs
52, 408, 55:

XoAods SuopHov, yupvods evedve, vexpovs 7pyeipe,
Aerpods exabdpite, SidBorov éreotdmile, Saipovas drémviye,
TO Oe@ Suehéyero, "ExxAnoiav épvrevoe, vaods xatéoxarpe,
Bwpords avérpepe, rHv kaxiav édvoe, THY dpernv edirevae,
tovs avOparous ayyéAous éroince.
We close this chapter on the Gorgianic figures with the con-
viction that Chrysostom’s sophistic education has left a deep
impression on his style, that manifests itself in well-balanced

_ periods of symmetrical structure, some of which exhibit a sharp

contrast of thought, and to which a musical rhythm is imparted
by the homoioteleuton. In addition, we have observed that these
figures are often combined with epanaphora, antistrophe, parono-
masia, arsis, and asyndeton, and that, in order to obtain parisa,
Chrysostom often has recourse to pleonasm. Chrysostom manipu-
lates these very artificial refinements of style with the ease and
sure skill of a master, and with a fondness that makes him exceed
at times the limits of artistic moderation.

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CHAPTER V

THE METAPHOR

We have had ample opportunity in the preceding pages to note
that one of the salient features of sophistic rhetoric is its love for
showy ornament. To the sophist an idea was serviceable and
good only in as far as it lent itself to oratorical embellishment.

Now, there is perhaps no figure of speech better calculated to
give a rich color to style than the metaphor. It easily takes first
rank among the tropes, to which class it is assigned by the rheto-
ricians. The metaphor signifies the transfer of a word from its
literal or accepted meaning to a figurative sense.

Skilfully and discreetly employed it forms one of the most
attractive graces of style. But as in the case of other rhetorical
devices, so here also the sophists were not content to remain
within the boynds of sobriety and true art. Hermogenes remarks *
that the excessive use of tropes was one of the vices of the irdéAo
coduorai.

The oratory of the pulpit, more than any other, demands the
use of metaphorical language. It is the preacher’s task to make
the abstract and spiritual ideas of theology in some sort tangible
to his audience by giving to these ideas color and substance and
sensible qualities. If this is true in general, it applies with double
force to the eastern peoples, who are more imaginative than the
nations of the west. Chrysostom was himself an Oriental, en-
dowed with a rich and bold fancy. He realized that, in order to
reach his hearers, he must needs appeal to their imaginative sense,
and lead them to the perception of the immaterial by illustrations
from the material. And indeed, a cursory glance at his sermons
will show that he is most lavish in the employment of metaphors.
It was the rich imagery of his style which above all fascinated his
oriental audience, and helped to make him the most popular orator
of the Eastern Church.

However, this gift of graphic representation, which constitutes
one of the excellencies of his art, is likewise responsible for one
of its most serious blemishes, an immoderate redundance of
images. Like the quickly shifting colors of a kaleidoscope, they

1 Spengel, epi dear, 292, 19 ff.
56

57

follow one another in rapid succession. There is no thought of
selecting what is most suitable, and the main idea is often lost
sight of in the long train of images that are intended to illustrate
it. It is this fondness for images that especially reveals Chrysos-
tom’s intellectual kinship with the sophists. This kinship becomes
still more evident as we behold the sophistic sources from which
he draws many of his metaphors, and the distinctly sophistic
qualities of others. Before treating these we shall class his meta-
phors under general heads.

The purpose of the metaphor is to materialize an idea, to make
it in some sort visible to the eye. This is generally done by sub-
stituting the concrete for the abstract.

A very graphic example of the substitution of a concrete for
an abstract idea occurs in 52, 394, 54, where the prosperity of the
unfortunate Eutropius is depicted as “the harlot-face which a few
days ago was radiant, looking uglier than any wrinkled old
woman, and denuded of its enamel and pigments by the action of
adversity as by a sponge.” The Feast of Pentecost is styled, 50,
463, 48: “the metropolis of feasts.” Youth is called, “a pyre
quickly kindled,” 49, 21, 18. .

The abstract terms of philosophy and theology are material-
ized by joining them with a concrete verb, adjective, or noun, e.g.,
50, 266, 14: rovnpias Bapabpov ; 52, 395, 33: Tov ordxvy Kopevta THs
ovprabeias; 52, 443, 57: “the flower of liberty”; 52, 404, 26:
dvaBaivw TO TTEPo TOU vonuatos; 49, 37, 47: <avTods TrEpwowpeV Tais
eAriot ; 56, 267, 49: Kdpuvoy Epwros . . . . Trepipépetv 5 50, 474, 17: tas
dxav0as tov dyaptnydtrwv dvacrov, Kal tov ddyov THs evoeBeias
Kataomeipwv ; 50, 615, 32: Tov xeydppovy Tov Knpvypatos ; 50, 573, 14:
“the spark of religion” ; 50, 468, 42: ra dAoya tis Siavoias oxiprhpata.

A concrete idea is sometimes replaced by another concrete
term which is more graphic, e.g., having enumerated the past
pleasures and honors of Eutropius, Chrysostom pictures them in a
series of elegant metaphors, 52, 391, 48: “They were all mere
visions of the night, and dreams which have vanished with the
dawn of day: they were spring flowers, and when the spring was
over they all withered: they were a shadow which has passed
away—they were a smoke which has dispersed, bubbles which
have burst, cobwebs which have been rent in pieces.” St. Paul’s
voice is called, 49, 15, 1, “the celestial trumpet, the spiritual lyre.”
The bodies of the martyrs are termed, “springs, roots and oint-
ments,” 50, 600, 51. In 50, 505, 33, St. Paul is styled rév aWpidvra
THs aperys ; Eutropius, the fallen, fugitive consul of the Empire, is

58

called “a tree, stripped of all its leaves and shaken to its very roots
by the storm of adversity,” 52, 391, 37.

The names of animals are sometimes used to designate men,
e.g., the hope is expressed that Flavian, the bishop of Antioch,
who had been sent to appease the wrath of the emperor Theodo-
sius, will be able “to convert the lion into a mild lamb,” 49, 49, 39.
The Virgin-Martyrs Sts. Bernice and Prosdoce are represented
as “two heifers that gladly bore the yoke of martyrdom,” 50, 640,
30. St. Roman, Martyr, is represented as converting “gazelles
and deer into bold lions” by his exhortations, 50, 609, 13. Simi-
larly St. Paul is said to have made sheep out of wolves, and doves
out of kites and hawks, 50, 474, 59. The same saint is described
as falling “into the very jaws of the lion,” 7.e., of wicked men,
50, 476, 20. The devil too is called “a wild beast,” 50, 608, 13.

The boldest kind of metaphor consists in attributing life and
action to inanimate objects, e.g., 52, 444, 50: “What need of
words? The rocks cry out, the walls send forth a voice.” In 50,
496, 8, Chrysostom says: Kai ratra airy 7) tov mpaypdrov adnbea Boa,
and he continues, “There is no need of words or speech, since the
whole world everywhere sends forth a voice, the cities, the fields,
the earth, the sea, the inhabited and desert places, yea, even the
very mountain tops.” In 50, 607, 20, the nature of disaster is said
to be able to “incline even the rocks to pity.” In 52, 392, 58, the
horse-races are said to have whetted the sword against Eutropius.

There are certain metaphors, which, without being peculiar to
the sophists, form part of the common literary property, being
borrowed mostly from the poets, e. g.: 56, 265, 44: woixidos dorépwv

. . xopos; 50, 647, 53: tov AiOwv ras wpddas (Cf. Aesch. Fr.
199) 3 50, 475, 59: pupias wpddas retpacpov ; the marching in proces-
sion to the graves of the martyrs is called: yopevew, 50, 699, 50;
the martyrs entering heaven are represented as joining the choir
of the Blessed, who had been their ovyyopedra: on earth, 50, 710,
43;° the plenitude of the Holy Spirit is designated as yopyycay,
52, 408, 48.

A metaphor that occurs frequently in some of the sophists is
wdtve, used in a figurative sense. Chrysostom applies the term to
Julian the Apostate, plotting a persecution against the Christians:
50, 574, 1: ddivovros éxeivov tov mod\enov eEeveyxeiv. He likewise de-
scribes the storm of persecution as: mpd twa @divev vavdyia, 52,
549, 22.°

2 Cf. Guignet, 139, on Gregory Nazianzen’s use of the same term.
3 Cf Guignet, 139.

Pe Ee a

59

The metaphors, however, which present strong evidence of
Chrysostom’s profane education are the so-called technical terms
pertaining to military science, the athletic games, the hippodrome,
and navigation. There can be no doubt as to their profane origin.
Their popularity among all classes of Greek society was universal.
Chrysostom in his liberal use of these terms rivals the most
thoroughgoing of the rhetors.

1. Metaphors borrowed from military science:

The struggle of the soul against the flesh and its passions is
styled, pdyn, wodenos, wapdtagéis, 50, 483, 26. Referring to the
deacon John, surnamed Marcus, whom St. Paul refused to take
with him on one of his journeys, because John had deserted him
on a former occasion (Acts, XIII, 13; XV, 37, 38), Chrysostom
says, 50, 508, 5: Aw xai Sixaiws é&erépvero, bre év atte tagas EavTov TO
petorrw THS PdArayyos, ahddpa avdvdpws eiotnxea. In Book IV On the
Priesthood, Chrysostom demands that the Christian preacher be
skilled in all the methods of warfare, in order to be able to repel
the attacks of the enemies of the Church, and that he “be at once
both archer and slinger, captain and general, in the ranks and in
command, on foot and on horseback, in sea-fight and in siege,”
48, 666, 24. The devil’s attacks on Job, and the latter’s victory
are described thus, 52, 400, 13: “Did he not arm his wife against
him? yes, but he did not overthrow the soldier. Did he not hurl
arrows and darts at him? yes, but he received no wounds. He
advanced his engines, but could not shake the tower ; he conducted

his billows against him, but did not sink the ship.” Another group

of military, naval, and athletic terms sets forth the victorious

she is wounded, yet sinks not under her wounds ; tossed by waves,
yet not submerged ; vexed by storms, yet suffers no shipwreck ;
she wrestles and is not worsted, fights (av«reve.) but is not van-
quished.”

One of the persecutors of the Church is described thus, 50,
644, 29: tvpavvos eis otpavov rogevew emrixeipov.t The mouths of the
martyrs, speaking in defence of the Faith are styled quivers
( Bedo6Hxn), bearing many arrows, which are shot at the demon’s
head, 50, 575, 52. Julian the Apostate, persecuting the Christians
by covert methods, is represented as, rov réAeuov dxpoBodrLdpevos,

4 Cf. Herod. IV, 94, who relates that the Getai, when it thundered and
lightened, aimed their arrows at the sky, uttering threats against their god.

60

50, 573, 39. On Good Friday Chrysostom bids the faithful:
dAaddéwper, kabdmrep orpatirat, Thy émwixiov odnv, 49, 396, 50.

2. Metaphors drawn from the athletic games:

The magnificent splendor of these religious festivals, regarded
as events of national importance, and the enthusiastic admiration
of the public for the victors of Olympia, who were celebrated in
song and verse, lent to these figures that dramatic and epic color
which was so eagerly coveted by the sophists. Taken over by the
Christian panegyrists after the example of St. Paul (Tim. I, 4),
they maintained in the religious domain their ancient popularity,
and gradually became so common that they almost lost their fig-
urative character, d@Anrns and aywnorns becoming equivalent to
martyr. .

Job is called péyas aOAnrns, 50, 476, 11. St. Paul is described as,
meAdye. muKtedov Kat AO... . Kal KpUNd, Kal TavTaxod trép Ta
oxdppata mndov, 50, 475, 62. The religious services in honor of a
martyr are termed Gewpia dywvopdtwv, 50, 665, 5, and the faithful
attend these services in order to learn dywviferOa:, rayxpatid€eww.
The martyrs are described as looking up with eager eyes to their
aywvobérns (1. e., God), 50, 647, 51. St. Ignatius, Martyr, is styled
*Odvpmuovixns, 50, 606, 57, and God, who called him from Antioch
to Rome, where he was martyred, is represented as, paxporépous
ait@ tiHeis rods SiavAovs Tod Spdmov, 50, 592, 40, and the Christians
who met him on his journey 7Aedov rov dOAnrnv, ib. 49, and were
consoled to see him so eagerly émi @évarov tpéxovra, 1b. 53. Chrys-
ostom remarks that at the feasts of the rich one can see, ordd.ov cai
dpirrav SiaBoruxnv, 50, 435, 17, and that the rich man affords the
devil many occasions for attack (AaBds, grip, hold), 49, 45, 55.
The devil is said to grapple with us (ovprdéxeo$ar), thus giving us
opportunities to win crowns, 50, 441, I. His own work of preach-
ing and instructing the faithful Chrysostom characterizes thus:
Gdelhovres tpas Kal? Exdornv Fyépav, 50, 440, 44. Speaking of the
great number of martyrs, he says: aodAol of dvaxnpurropevor Kal
orepavovpevor, 50, 587, 33, and, ib. 38: “they run the race of piety,”
and again, ib. 44: “both men and women strip for these contests
(xpos tods dyavas dreddcavro tovrous). The angels and his six older
brothers are described as looking down from heaven upon the
glorious spectacle (@éarpov) of the martyrdom of the youngest of
the Maccabees: “Like judges in the Olympic games they sat
crowned, not acting as arbiters of the struggle, but exhorting the
champion to win the crown,” 50, 624, 26. The theatrical charac-

—_—-”-

61

ter of these pagan images, which are applied with little propriety
to the scenes of martyrdom, denotes strong sophistic influence.

The following metaphor on St. Ignatius, Martyr, 50, 588, 32,
reveals the studied ingenuity of the sophist: “The grace of the
Spirit has woven a triple garland and bound with it that sacred
brow, or rather I should say, a manifold one, for if one would
carefully unwind each single garland, it would be found putting
forth many others. And if you will, I shall first come to the
panegyric of his episcopacy. Does not this seem to be but one
garland? Well, let us unwind it, and you shall see two, three, and
even more garlands sprouting forth from it.”

3. Metaphors borrowed from the hippodrome:

That the Greeks were possessed of a veritable mania for the
horse and chariot races needs no proof. The popularity of this
pastime would make metaphors drawn from that source very
much appreciated. In his panegyric On Sts. Juventinus and Max-
iminus, Martyrs, 50, 571, 47, Chrysostom says: “Recently Blessed
Babylas and the three youths gathered us here. Today a pair
(vvwpis, a pair of horses) of holy soldiers has marshalled in
battle-array the host of Christ; rore dppa (i.e., a team of four
horses drawing a chariot: referring to St. Babylas, and the three
Jewish youths who were thrown into the fiery furnace), viv évvwpis
paptipwv.”* In his panegyric On St. Pelagia, Virgin-Martyr, 50,
579, 8: “Henceforth maidens of tender age can leap against the
goads of Hades (i. e¢., death) and suffer no harm.” Relating how
St. Timothy mortified his body, Chrysostom says: “The steed that
was unmanageable and restive he curbed with much vehemence,
until he had tamed him of his wanton tricks; until he had made
him docile ; and delivered him under entire control into the hands
of that reason which is the charioteer,” 49, 21, 22.

A similar metaphor, but much more elaborate, occurs in his
sermon Against the Games and the ‘Theatres, 56, 265, 28. The
studious care with which Chrysostom works out the details of the
image is characteristic of the sophists’ method. Having rebuked
the faithful for attending the chariot races on Good Friday, in-
stead of coming to church, he says: “If you wished to see a race
of irrational animals, why did you not yoke together your irra-
tional passions, anger and concupiscence, and lay on them the yoke
of philosophy, sweet and light, and give them for a charioteer
right reason, and drive towards the goal of your heavenly voca-
tior, not from vice to vice, but from earth to heaven? This kind

62

of chariot race, besides giving pleasure, would be very beneficial.”
This poetical picture is strongly reminiscent of Plato’s famous
illustration (Phaedrus, 246), in which Reason is represented as a
charioteer driving a chariot. drawn by two horses, one of an
aspiring, the other of a base nature.

4. Metaphors taken from the sea and from navigation:

It is difficult to determine how far these metaphors are of pro-
fane origin, because we do not know to what extent they were
current in the ecclesiastical literature of Chrysostom’s time.

Poverty is called Awy dxvpavros Kai reixos dodadés, 52, 395, 18.
To reach heaven with a rich store of merits is expressed thus:
peta ToAARS THS eumopias cis Exeivov KatamAEVoa TOV ALwéva, 50, 577, 5.
On St. Eustathius, Martyr: “He has crossed the strait (etpurov) of
life’s cares, he is free from the tumult of the waves, he has sailed
into the quiet and tranquil harbor . . . . as if standing on a rock
or high cliff, he laughs at the waves,” 50, 597, 63. The calamity at
Antioch is called a yeuov, and the hope is expressed that God will
soon restore the calm (yadynvyv), 49, 36, 34. The gathering of the
faithful in church is termed: OdAarra edpdywpos eurerAnopevn, GAN’ od
Tapatrouevn TH Cady Tov dvépwv, 52, 435, 42. Chrysostom’s farewell
sermon to his flock on the eve of his first exile begins with the
stirring metaphor : “Many are the billows, mighty is the swell ; but
we have no fear of being submerged, for we stand upon the rock.
. Let the sea rage, it cannot wash away the rock; let the billows
roar, they cannot sink the bark of Jesus,” 52, 427, 45. Referring
to Theophilus of Alexandria, who together with other ecclesiastics
- had brought about his banishment, Chrysostom in the sermon on
his return from exile says: of vaira: pel’ ipov xa? ipov yeyovacw,
olrives TOY 7OAEMOV TO TAOIiW KaTecKevacev, 52, 446, 45.

We have already noted as a sophistic trait of Chrysostom’s art
the theatrical tone of some of his metaphors describing the scenes
of martyrdom as a sort of dramatic spectacle. This tendency
appears also in his employment of the words dpaya and tpaywdia
to denote scenes of a pathetic nature, and in his use of the term
mpooorreiov in a figurative sense, e.g., the term rtpaywdia is applied,
49, 147, 54, to the sacrifice of Jephte’s daughter (Judg. XI, 37) ;
to the martyrdom of the Maccabees, 50, 621, 50; to the sentence
pronounced on some criminals, 49, 138, 17. Speaking of those
Christian women who, like St. Pelagia, took their lives to pre-
serve their virginity, he says: “The time was full of such dramas,”
50, 580, 62. In a rhetorical apostrophe addressed to Abraham,

63

Chrysostom pretends to find fault with him for advising Sara to
deceive the ruler of Egypt by representing herself as Abraham’s
sister, and exclaims: “You even weave a plot with your wife, and
play a part with her in the drama of adultery (ovwzoxpivy 16 Spapya
ras bBpews) !” And a few lines further: “You prompt her to don
the mask of a sister!” 50, 630, 53 ff. Referring to friends who
proved false, he says: “They changed their mask,” 52, 399, 15,
and: “The actors were unmasked (#Aé€yx6n 7a rpoowmeia),” 52, 400,
37. In another place, 50, 531, 33: “The demon raised his mask
and openly (yvpvp r7 xepady) took his stand against the received
laws of nature.” ®

The straining after dramatic effect asserts itself in the fol-
lowing personification of Wealth as a disloyal servant, 49, 39, 35:
“Nothing is so faithless as wealth ; of which I have often said, and
will not cease to say, that it is a runaway, thankless servant,
having no fidelity ; and should you throw over him ten thousand
chains, he will make off dragging his chains after him. Fre-
quently, indeed, have those who possessed him shut him up with
bars and doors, placing their slaves round about for guards. But
he has overpersuaded these very servants, and has fled away to-
gether with his guards; dragging his keepers after him like a
chain, so little security was there in his custody.” Hom. VIII
against the Anomoeans, 48, 767, opens with this declamatory pas-
sage: “Yesterday we returned from the warfare and battle with
the heretics bearing gory arms and the sword of the word blood-
red, not from the slaughter of human bodies, but from the refuta-
tion of false reasonings.”

A large contingent of Chrysostom’s metaphors are taken from
Sacred Scripture; such are the allegories referring to the Church
as a flock of sheep, as a bride, a kingdom, as a body whose head is
Christ, and whose members are the faithful; to the priest as a
physician etc. These figures are beside the purpose of this study
which aims to show only the profane and sophistic elements in
Chrysostom’s rhetoric. It is very interesting, however, to see how
he transforms these figures, giving them a touch of the sensational
and paradoxical, which is a distinctly sophistic trait. We have
already referred to his bold and shocking metaphor which repre-
sents human nature as a harlot with God as her lover (p. 39).
This allegory is probably borrowed from the Old Testament
(Jerem. III; Ezech. XV1; Osee II and III), where the Jewish

5On Gregory of Nyssa, cf. Méridier, 108; on Gregory Nazianzen,
Guignet, 148.

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people in their disloyalty to God are likened to a prostitute.
Chrysostom says verbatim (Hom. II on Eutropius, 52, 405, 29) :
6 togovros Kal TyALKOvTOsS éreOipnoe mdpvyns. Tdpvys ércOiper 6 Oeds;
Nal, zépvys. He explains: “I speak of our human nature under
that name.” God is then described as coming to the harlot in
order to convert her into a virgin by espousing her. The sequel
reveals that Chrysostom is speaking of the mystery of the Incar-
nation, but the allegory is pursued with such sophistic boldness,
that Chrysostom’s caution to the faithful to understand it in a
spiritual sense hardly mitigates the shocking character of the
image. The latter is dropped for a while (ib. 406, 23), and
human nature is represented successively as a plant placed in
Paradise, as a sheep carried by the Shepherd, as a vessel of clay
holding a treasure (i.¢., the Holy Spirit). After an interval of
about one column the original figure is resumed (ib. 407, 39).
Christ gives his Bride an earnest (éppaBéva), a dowry (zpoika),
gifts of betrothal (uvjorpa) (ib. 408, 32). The frequent dialogues
between Christ and his Bride give a strong dramatic color to this
whole passage.

We have already, in the preceding pages (36 ff.), presented nu-
merous examples showing how the metaphor is a fruitful source
of the paradox. Here are some instances not yet quoted which
will further illustrate this, e.g., a series of metaphors on the ban-
ishment of St. Meletius from his see of Antioch, 50, 517, 20:
“And indeed, what then took place was admirable (zapdSoégov) :
The shepherd was expelled, but the sheep were not scattered ; the
pilot was ejected, but the bark did not sink; the husbandman was
persecuted, but the vine bore more fruit!”

On the Egyptian Martyrs, 50, 697, 13: “And they were sen-
tenced to the mines, to dig for metal, they who were more precious
than gold, and possessors of a gold not material, nor dug up by
the hands of convicts, but acquired by the labor of faithful Chris-
tians. eipydfovro péradAa of pupiwv yépovres Onoavpav.”

On Sts. Juventinus and Maximinus, who were beheaded at
midnight, 50, 576, 20: & péow oxdrer of gdworhpes eEqyovto Kal
ameréuvovro. This is an artificial specimen. The metaphor dworipes
is introduced solely for the sake of a contrast with oxére. There
is also here a jumble of the metaphorical (dworjpes) with the
literal sense (dzerépvovro).

The most strongly sophistic metaphor we have found in Chrys-
ast-m fs Gorgias’ notorious paradox of émvyo rddo. (for vul-

65

tures), already discussed among the oxymora (p. 36). Chrysos-
tom applies the figure to the faithful, stating that they are “living
graves” of St. Eustathius, Martyr.

The labored ingenuity of the rhetor is revealed in a far-fetched
metaphor on St. Paul, 50, 474, 46. He is described in a contrast
with Noe as saving the whole world in an ark which he con-
structed out of his epistles, using them instead of planks.

It is amusing to note the specious arguments with which
Chrysostom tries to justify some of his exaggerated metaphors,
e.g., the mother of the Maccabees is extolled as having brought
forth an entire Church of martyrs, 50, 622, 4: “The seven youths
were only seven martyrs, and the body of their mother added to
theirs was only one, but it was equivalent to twice seven martyrs,
both because she suffered martyrdom with regard to each one,
and because she rendered them martyrs (i.e., by her exhorta-
tions). Thus we can truly say that she brought forth an entire
Church of martyrs.”

From the fact that God allowed St. Peter, whom he set to rule
the whole world, and to whom he entrusted the keys of heaven,
to tarry a long time at Antioch, Chrysostom concludes: “Thus our
city appears as tantamount to the whole world.” 50, 591, 50.

In his panegyric On St. Roman, Martyr, who, after his tongue
had been plucked out, miraculously retained his speech and con-
tinued to reproach the tyrant, Chrysostom exclaims, 50, 614, 2:
Géapa Kawov kai zapddoéov- adpxwos capkivors aodpxws pbeyyopevos.
Then he addresses the tongue as a “forerunner of the martyr,”
and breaks forth into a rhapsodic strain: “Oh tongue which pre-
ceded the soul of the martyr to the hosts of the martyrs (in
heaven)! Oh mouth which brought forth a hidden martyr! Oh
tongue having for its altar the mouth! Oh mouth whose sacri-
ficial victim was the tongue! Oh noble martyr, we knew not that
thou hadst thy mouth for a temple, in which thou didst sacrifice
thy kindred tongue as an admirable (zapddofov) lamb!” Chrysos-
-tom then addresses a lengthy apostrophe to the martyr, repeating
some of the above figures and adding: édafes cis 75 fOéyyerOat
TAnKTpov, av dé aird reuvopevoy dotaxwy avédeéas. He then goes on
to say that the tongue, like Isaac of old, lay patiently on the altar,
and did not recoil from the knife, but received the blow with
pleasure (1b. 40).

This is a genuine sophistic tour de force. The images are so
bold and overwrought as to border on the ridiculous. It is a fine

66
specimen of the extravagant and exaggerated declamations of the
rhetors.®

In the beginning of this chapter we remarked that one of the
serious faults of Chrysostom’s style was his immoderate redun-
dance of metaphors. In this respect he seems to surpass even the
most radical sophists. In 52, 416, 14, we found a series of ten
metaphors on wealth, which is styled: “An ungrateful, runaway
slave, a cruel murderer, an untamable beast, a precipice sheer on
every side, a rock continually washed by the billows, a sea agi-
tated by innumerable winds, a tyrant harshly imperious, a despot
more cruel than a barbarian, an implacable enemy, an irrecon-
cilable foe.” Note that all these terms are concrete. This tedious
litany is followed immediately by another series of twelve meta-
phors on poverty, ib. 23. Cf. also 50, 685, 40, a series of sixteen
metaphors on the martyrs’ death, four of which are concrete and
the rest abstract terms. These endless enumerations are nothing
but an empty display of rhetorical skill, which, though wearisome
to a modern reader, must have been highly acceptable to Chrysos-
tom’s audience.

For the close of this chapter we have reserved a very remark-
able specimen of turgid sophistic declamation. It occurs at the
end of a long comparison in which St. Roman, Martyr, is likened
to a pilot who sees the storm of persecution rising against the ship
of the Church, and going up to Jesus, who is asleep in the ship, he
raises the cry of the Apostles (Matth. VIII, 25) : “Lord, save us,
we perish!” and then Chrysostom continues, 50, 615, 59: “Pirates
surround your vessel, wolves beset the flock, robbers are under-
mining your bridal-chamber, adulterous hissings (ovpiypara)
sound about your bride, once more the serpent is breaking into
(rovywpvyet) Paradise, the foundation-rock of the Church is
shaking, but cast down from heaven the evangelical anchor, and
set fast the shaking rock: Lord, save us, we perish!” What a
contrast between the simple, pathetic cry: “Lord, save us, we
perish,” and its bombastic paraphrase! The profusion of images
is bewildering. The Church is pictured as a ship, a flock, a bridal-
chamber, a bride, as Paradise, a foundation-stone ; her enemies as
pirates, wolves, robbers, a serpent; finally God is besought to cast
down an anchor to fasten the shaking rock! an incongruous
metaphor indeed.

8 Cf. the bombastic apostrophe which the father of Cynaegirus ad-
dresses to the hand of his son in Polemo’s Declamation A, 35 ff.

——— lr

67

Our investigation of Chrysostom’s use of the metaphor has
shown us several additional points of direct contact between his
oratory and the sophistic rhetoric. The liberal use of certain
metaphors of established profane origin, the sophistic fashion in
which metaphors taken from a profane source are treated, the
labored ingenuity, extravagance, and exaggeration which marks
certain others, and finally his immoderate redundance of images,
all betray Chrysostom’s intimate relationship with the sophist
rhetors. The studies which Méridier and Guignet have made of
Gregory of Nyssa and Gregory Nazianzen on this same point
enable us to state that in the prodigal exuberance of his metaphors
Chrysostom by far surpasses his illustrious contemporaries.

CHAPTER VI

THE COMPARISON

The keen sense for the graphic and picturesque which mani-
fests itself in the metaphors of Chrysostom appears in an even
more striking manner in his comparisons. The comparison does
not differ essentially from the metaphor. Both are founded on
the resemblance between two objects. In the metaphor this like-
ness is not directly expressed but implied. In the comparison it
is formally stated. The metaphor is thus by its very nature a
more subtle and powerful figure; whereas the comparison, plainly

‘manifesting itself as an image, has more of an ornamental char-

acter. The oriental peoples are of course more given to this
sparkling ornament than the Europeans. As already stated,
Chrysostom was an Oriental, a Syrian, and naturally comparisons
are very numerous in his sermons. Like the sophists of the
Asiatic schools, Chrysostom prefers comparisons of the gaudy
and showy kind to the more discreet and restrained types found
in the classic orators.

Chrysostom himself justifies his use of this figure in the fol-
lowing two passages: Commenting on St. Paul, Hebr. V, 11: “Of
whom (i.e., Melchisedech) we have much to say and hard to be
intelligibly uttered: because you are become weak to hear,” he
says (56, 165, 32) : “Evidently it is not the nature of the language
but the ignorance of the audience which makes difficult, yea very
difficult, what in itself is easy..... When we have the care
of the sick we must not set before them a meal prepared at hap-
hazard, but a variety of dishes, so that the patient may choose
what suits his taste. Thus we must proceed in the spiritual repasts
(1.e., preaching). Since we are weak, the sermon must be varied
and embellished; it must contain comparisons, proofs, para-
phrases, and the like, so that we may select what will profit our
soul.” Again, in 57, 199, 13, he points out how Christ employed
parables to make the divine truths more acceptable to the Jews by
inserting in his discourse terms that were in common use, such as,
thrashing-floor, harvest, winepress, vineyard, field etc. ‘Here
Chrysostom’s theoretical view on the purpose of the comparison
is briefly indicated. It should be subject to the needs of exposi-

68

69

tion ; it should serve, like the parables of the Savior, to elucidate
and facilitate the understanding of the abstract and spiritual ideas
of Christian teaching. We shall soon see that Chrysostom, in
practice, does not always keep in view this purpose of the
comparison.

His comparisons are drawn from various sources, at times
from Sacred Scripture. But in the majority of cases Chrysostom
draws on profane sources for the themes of his comparisons. As
to the general character of these themes, our conclusions tally
with those of Méridier (117) on Gregory of Nyssa, and of
Guignet (161) on Gregory Nazianzen, viz., that Chrysostom’s
comparisons are not taken from a great variety of subjects. All
may be reduced to a limited number of stereotype forms, slightly
modified to suit the occasion. We can classify them broadly under
two heads, viz., such as are borrowed from natural phenomena,
the sun, the stars, fire, earth, water etc., and such as are taken
from the technical arts, military and naval science, the games etc.
These are precisely the themes which were in vogue in the rheto-
rical schools of the day. Like his contemporaries, Chrysostom for
the most part adopts and utilizes them after the manner of the
sophists. There is hardly any attempt at original treatment; he
reveals no new phases of these subjects.

1. Comparisons with the sun, e.g., 50, 703, 26: One who
denies the divinity of Christ is like to one who claims that the sun
is dark; by so doing he only proves his blindness. 50, 700, 37:
“As one who looks at the sun does not make it more resplendent,
but receives its light in his eye: so he who honors a martyr does
not make him more celebrated, but receives the blessing of his
light.” 50,617, 42: The martyrs are said to be more radiant than
ten thousand suns and more brilliant than the great lights of
heaven. 50, 699, 62: As it is impossible to extinguish the sun’s
light, so too the memory of the martyrs. St. Peter, in 50, 455, 57,
and St. Paul, in 50, 494, 53, are compared to the rising sun. 50,
709, 29: The rivulets of blood flowing over the bodies of the
martyrs are likened to the saffron-colored rays of the rising sun.

2. Comparisons with the stars, e.g., 50, 467, 3: The faithful
regarded the faces of the apostles as stars. 50, 707,6: The starry
sky is not so resplendent as the bodies of the martyrs with their
brilliant array of wounds. Cf. also 50, 670, 1 ; 50, 669, 46.

3. Comparisons with fire, 50, 494, 42: The voice of St. Paul is
likened to a fire which consumes thorns. 50, 491, 27: The same
saint is compared to a fire falling amid reeds or chaff. 50, 686,

70

62: The demons are said to flee before the relics of the martyrs as
from fire. 50, 581, 61: The body of St. Pelagia, Virgin-Martyr,
is compared to a flash of lightning striking terror into the pha-
lanxes of the demons.

4. Comparisons drawn from rivers, the sea, and navigation,
49, 38, 30: The mouths of blasphemers are likened to death-
dealing wells. 56, 265, 9: The multitude of the faithful hurrying
to church is compared to a torrent. 49, 36, 10: The crowds at
Antioch surpassed river floods. 52, 415, 23: “Life is like the
raging sea, and every day it causes (#8ive.) unexpected and direful
shipwrecks.” 49, 59, 45: The disaster at Antioch (387 A.D.) is
likened to a storm on the sea, compelling all the faithful to take
refuge in the church as in a harbor. 50, 598, 60: The living are
likened to “voyagers tossed about in mid-ocean, now raised on
the crests of the highest billows, now sinking down into the
depths.” 50, 625, 45: The heart of the mother of the Maccabees
is compared to a “rock in the sea which receives the shock of the
waves, but remains firm and easily repels them dissolved into
foam.” 50, 613, 2: Life at the time of the persecutions was like
the sea stirred to its depths. Kings and tyrants raged more
fiercely than the billows. 50, 425, 21: The Christian should look
to the future reward like the merchant who braves the perils of
the sea in the hope of amassing a fortune. A similar example
‘occurs 50, 422, 50. 50, 590, 46: We admire the rulers of the
Church in the time of persecution, as we esteem a pilot who can
safely direct his ship when there is a storm on the sea and mutiny
on board. 50, 507, 26: It would be as foolish for any one to
undertake, without preparation, the office of preaching, as it would
be for one to take the pilot’s place who is not skilled in battling
with the waves (Cf. Guignet, 166). 50, 437, 46: A king, like a
ship, is bespattered on all sides and contracts many flaws. 52,
416, 50: One who hoards up excessive wealth is like an over-
loaded ship. 50, 649, 19: The tombs of the martyrs are compared
to safe harbors, fountains, and inexhaustible treasures.

5. Military science, another source of comparisons, 49, 398,
34: As a great king who is victorious in war hangs up on high
the cuirass and shield of his enemy, so Christ, having conquered
the devil, suspended on the cross, as a trophy, the weapons of the
devil, death and the curse of sin. 50, 617, 54: As robbers flee at
the sight of the gilded cuirass, helmet, and buckler of a great
chieftain, so the devils dare not approach when they see the bodies
of the martyrs. 50, 681, 53: The martyrs, upbraiding their per-

71

secutors, are likened to skilful archers who with perfect aim shoot
their arrows from the bow-string and rout the lines of the enemy:
so the holy martyrs and all the champions (dywvorai) of the truth
send forth their words from their tongue as from a bow-string,
and these, flying like arrows through the air, fall upon the unseen
phalanxes of the demons and rout them. Note how carefully all
the details of this comparison are worked out. 50, 681, 50:
Women too can join the army of Christ ; “they also may put on a
cuirass, advance the buckler, and shoot darts.” The death of St.
Drosis, Virgin-Martyr, is represented as a victory of Christ over
the devil, 50, 687, 52: As David slew Goliath with his own sword,
so Christ cut off the devil’s head with the same weapon (1. e.,
woman) with which he had conquered Adam. Justifying the holy
anger of St. Paul, Chrysostom says, 50, 508, 24: “God gave to our
soul the keenness of anger, like the sharp edge of a sword, to be
used when there is need.” With reference to the victory which
Christ won for us by his death on the Cross, Chrysostom says, 49,
396, 55: “Since the victory is ours, let us like soldiers shout the
hymn of victory (dAaddgwpev . . . . THv exwixiov &dnv).” On St.
Roman, Martyr, 50, 613, 18: “The martyr laughed at this conflict
(7.e., martyrdom) as at some mock-fight, and as if he were é&
oxdppaow (a place dug out and sanded on which athletes prac-
ticed) and covering his judges with dust; so he agitated the mind
of the judge with his (display of) faith, and checked him in his
course against the Church.” Note the ingenious application of
the image of dust raised by the athlete to the faith of the martyr.
50, 591, 39: “As in armies the command of the select troops and
larger companies is given to the more skilful leaders, so in the
Church large dioceses are entrusted to the more tried superiors.”
50, 576, 60: “As soldiers show their wounds to the general and
speak familiarly with him, so the martyrs, bearing their severed
heads in their hands, and proffering them to the King of heaven,
_can obtain whatever they desire.” A bold and realistic compari-
son. 50, 672, 2: “As even a cowardly man, at the sight of the
--buckler, spear, and cuirass of some champion, is filled with cour-
age, so we, looking on the body of the martyr, ought to take heart
and be ready to fight for Christ.” 49, 35, 46: The plight of the
people of Antioch after the overthrow of the statues of Theo-
dosius is likened to a siege.
6. Comparisons borrowed from the athletic games, 50, 709, 10:

Of the martyrs Chrysostom says: “These, like athletes crowned
(orepavirar), departed after the contests to their déywvolé

72

God).” 50, 678, 38, On St. Barlaam, Martyr: “He stepped forth
like a brave athlete who had practiced a long time in the palaestra ;
for the prison was to the martyr a palaestra where, in private con-
versation with God, he learned all the tricks of wrestling
(wadaiopara).” 50, 611, 59: As the palaestra makes the body
strong and skilled in the athletic art, so the commemoration of
the martyrs arms the soul against the tricks of the demons and
trains it for the struggle (AaBds) with them. The narration of
their sufferings spreads out before us, as in a stadium (é
oxdppaor), the double course (SéavAov) of every martyr. 50, 668,
19: “The martyrs like boxers did not heed blows, but fixed their
gaze on the crown. Like mariners they regarded not the dangers
of the sea, but looked forward to the harbor.” In the following we
receive some detailed information on the rules prevailing in ath-
letic contests: 50, 421, 61: “In the Olympic games the athlete
contends within the stadium, but his zadorpiBys (trainer) remains
outside the lists, and, by calling him and shouting to him, gives
aid, nor is he allowed to stand close and assist him with his hands.
But the case is different in the spiritual contests; for here the
trainer is at the same time an athlete. Therefore he stands not
outside but enters the lists and anoints the athletes fighting in
company with him” (Chrysostom is referring to St. Paul). In
50, 440, 50, Christ is compared to a renowned zadorpiBys who,
receiving a slovenly, enervated athlete, instructs, trains, and makes
him put on muscle; then, not to let him grow idle, orders him to
enter the contests, to teach him by actual test what strength he
has acquired.

The following specimen gives occasion to a beautiful ecphrasis
or description of the triumphal entrance of the martyrs into
heaven, 50, 710, 11: “For if, on the arrival of stranger athletes in
a town, all the people gather in a circle and examine their well-
shaped limbs: with greater likelihood did the angels and all the
celestial powers gather around these athletes of religion as they
entered heaven. They too carefully noted their wounds, received
them amid rejoicing, and embraced them like champions coming
from the battle after many trophies and victories. They con-
ducted them amid a numerous bodyguard to the King of heaven,
to the throne surrounded with glory, where are the Cherubim and
Seraphim. Arriving there, they adore Him who sits on the
throne, and are received by the Lord with greater kindness even
than by their fellows, for he receives them not as servants but as
friends.” Note that the martyrs are represented here both as

73

athletes and as warriors. The picture is not lacking in sublimity.

It is not unusual with Chrysostom to mount a tableau in the
frame of a comparison, as appears again in the following: 50, 682,
10: “Do you not see how unnerved those are who come from the
spectacle of the games? The reason is the close attention with
which they view the contests. They depart having fixed in their
soul the image of eyes straining from their sockets, of hands
twisted out of joint, of feet shifting quickly, and of other contor-
tions which appear when the bodies are whirled about.” He then
upbraids the faithful for not showing an equal interest in and
application to the recital of the martyrs’ conflicts, and continues :
“Let us set up in our minds (the picture of) all the martyrs, to-
gether with the cauldrons and other instruments of torture, and,
as painters often wipe off an old painting grown dim with smoke
and soot, so let us employ the memory of the martyrs. If worldly
cares enter and darken the image of your soul, restore its bright-
ness by.recalling to mind the martyrs.

In his panegyric On St. Roman, 50, 611, 4, he compares the
devil, plotting to have the tongue of the martyr cut out, to an
athlete who, vanquished in the zayxparwv by his adversary, has
the latter’s hands cut off and thus maimed is able to strike him:
so in the case of the martyr the severed member was the most
striking proof of the devil’s defeat.

7. Comparisons drawn from the chariot races, 50, 501, 11: St.
Paul, hesitating to speak in praise of himself, is compared to a
steed which, coming to the edge of a precipice, rears up con-
tinually. In Hom. II On the Statues, Chrysostom likens the in-
habitants of Antioch to a steed, 49, 34, 46: “The populace so well
ordered and quiet, yea, even like a tractable and well tamed steed,
always submissive to the hands of its rulers, has now so suddenly
started off with us, as to have wrought such evils, as one can
hardly dare to mention.” Jb. 58, the weight of sadness is likened
to a bridle that checks the tongue of the preacher. In the sermon
On the Holy Martyrs, 50, 645, 42, Chrysostom draws a parallel
between the spectacle of the suffering martyrs and the chariot
races: “If those who rave about the games and are eager for the
chariot races never get their fill of this senseless spectacle ; then,
in greater measure, ought we have an insatiable longing for the
feasts of the martyrs.” Then follows a series of well balanced
antitheses: *Exet zopry SiaBodrrxy, evravba éopty xpiotiaKy Ket
Saipoves oxiptoow, évtavOa dyyeAor xopevovow- éxet Yuxdv adda,
évraida ouwtnpia tov ovAdeyouevov dxdvrwv. Then he asks: “What

74

pleasure is it to see a futile and haphazard race of horses? Here,
however, you see not teams of brute animals, but the myriad
chariots of the martyrs and God as their charioteer driving along
the road to heaven.”

8. A considerable number of comparisons are taken from agri-
culture and gardening, e.g., 50, 573, 26: The Church is compared
to a garden irrigated by the blood of the martyrs. 49, 35, 10:
The city of Antioch after the overthrow of the statues of Theo-
dosius is likened to a park afflicted with a drought, the trees being
stripped of their foliage and fruit; ib. 36, 12, to an oak-grove in
which the trees have been cut down, and to a bald head (this
image is not sufficiently elevated to be applied to a city) ; 7b. 35, I,
to a bee-hive, and its people to bees buzzing round the market-
place during the prosperous days that preceded the noted calam-
ity ; after the calamity, to a deserted bee-hive ; for fear like smoke
drove away the bees. The comparison of the faithful to bees
occurs again in 52, 405, 44. 50, 673, 15: The bodies of the mar-
tyrs are likened to trees that bear fruit at all seasons, and to
fountains that are never exhausted. 49, 17, 19: The Sacred Scrip-
tures are compared to a meadow covered with violets, lilies, and
various flowers, and to a park full of fruit trees. Here is a com-
parison of undoubted sophistic origin: In his panegyric On St.
Ignatius, Martyr, 52, 587, 52, Chrysostom says: “We feel as one
entering a meadow who sees an abundance of roses, violets, lilies,
and other various flowers of spring, and is at a loss which ones
he should admire first, and which next, since all invite a closer
view.” * 52, 417, 4: Superfluous wealth should be removed, as the
gardener prunes the vine of its leaves and tendrils. 52, 409, 16:
St. Paul is likened to an able husbandman, handling the plow of
doctrine. The Christian is compared to a husbandman, 50, 425,
31, and 49, 59, 6. Human nature is likened to fat and rich soil,
50, 467, 44. Grief over the sins of their brethren pressed upon
the neck of the Apostles like a heavy yoke, 50, 590, 31.

9g. Comparisons with animals, 50, 696, 21: The devil is com-
pared to a wild beast who devours the bodies of the martyrs,
covering his mouth and tongue with blood. Conquered by their
endurance, he retreats sated with his cruel repast. 50, 523, 23:
“Hunger, like an executioner lodged in the vitals, lacerates the
body more fiercely than fire or a wild beast.” Note the redun-

1 Himerius, V, 57, line 32; Libanius, XVII, 211 (end), edit. Foerster;
Gregory of Nyssa, Méridier, 126; Gregory Nazianzen, Guignet, 166.

75

dance of images. We shall encounter still more striking examples
of Chrysostom’s prodigality in this regard.

The following, on St. Pelagia, Virgin-Martyr, is a picture of
poetical delicacy, drawn with the nicety of detail which reveals
the finished art of the rhetor: St. Pelagia, surrounded in her home
by the executioners, won a martyr’s crown by leaping from the
roof of her house, 50, 581, 3: “As a hind which has fallen into the
hands of the hunters and has escaped thence to the inaccessible
top of a mountain, stops at length in its flight and looks down
without fear on its former pursuers: so she, having fallen into
the hands of the hunters and being shut up in her home as in a
net, rushed up, not to the mountain top, but to the very heights of
heaven, where there was no chance to reach her. Moreover, look-
ing down thence upon them as they retreated empty-handed, she
rejoiced at seeing the disgrace that had come upon these infidels.”
Contrast with this sympathetic picture his sketch of Julian the
Apostate, 50, 530, 1: “Looking up from earth to heaven, he
howled like the mad dogs that bark indiscriminately at friend and
foe.” 50, 421, 13: “Concupiscence, like a mad dog, leaps at us
continually.”

10. Comparisons with musical instruments: To convey the
idea of harmony, the Greek orators often employ the image of a
musical instrument. Chrysostom manifests a strong liking for
this figure, e.g., 50, 588, 54: “As in a lyre there are many strings
but one accord, so in the choir of the Apostles there are many
persons but one doctrine, since there is one artist, the Holy Spirit,
moving the souls.” In 53, 107, 33, the body of man is compared to
a lyre needing the touch of the musician, who is God, to produce
a tuneful melody. St. Roman, Martyr, who miraculously retained
his speech after his tongue had been cut out, gives our orator a
splendid opportunity to display this showy figure with all the
finesse of a sophist orator. The mouth of the saint is represented
both as a flute, and as a cither, his tongue as a mouthpiece and a
plectrum respectively, 50, 611, 26: “If you take the mouthpiece
off a flute, the instrument becomes useless. Not so this spiritual
flute ; for though the tongue was removed, it gave forth a sweeter
and more mystic melody. .... And in the case of a cither, if
one takes away the plectrum, the player is helpless. . .. . Here
the very opposite happens: For truly, his mouth was a cither, his
tongue the plectrum, his soul the player, and his confession the
art,” etc. The studious care of detail and the emphasis on the
paradoxical are here very noticeable. In 50, 613, 24, the same

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martyr is compared to a tympanum: “The executioners stood
about and crushed his body with blows, but he, like a brass tym-
panum, echoed a melody of piety. Suspending him on a rack,
they tore his body, but he embraced the rack like a tree of life.
They lacerated his cheeks as well as his sides, but he, as if he had
thereby received more mouths, held a speech,” etc. The exag-
geration and bad taste of this comparison mark it as strongly
sophistic. .

11. Comparisons taken from painting were equally popular
with the Greeks. Chrysostom has the following: In 50, 589, 16,
St. Paul, writing on the qualities necessary to a bishop, is likened
to a skilful painter. In 50, 622, 53, the faithful are bidden to
depict the struggles of the martyrs on their hearts as on tablets.
In 60, 227, 16, the house of God is compared to a painter’s studio,
where royal portraits are painted with the colors of virtue.

We have here quite a complete collection of the traditional com-
parisons of the schools, which shows how faithfully Chrysostom
follows the fashion of the sophist orators. We shall by way of
supplement add a number of comparisons which, either by reason
of their originality or their distinctive character, occupy a place
apart from the preceding.

In 52, 394, 37, the church in which the deposed consul Eutro-
pius was being held a voluntary prisoner clinging to the altar for
asylum, is compared to “a king seated on his throne, clad in royal
purple, with a crown on his head, whilst at his feet the barbarians
lie prostrate, their hands tied behind their back.” Again, in 50,
453, 24, the church holding a large gathering of the faithful is
likened to a modest, highbred woman wearing a garment that
reaches to her ankles. 50, 522, 8: “The bride seated in the bridal-
chamber is not so lovely and charming.as the Christian soul ap-
pearing in church is admirable and glorious, redolent with the
perfume of spiritual ointments.” 50, 583, 35: The faithful who
on their way from church relate to one another the deeds of the
martyrs are represented as using their tongue like a censer, to
fill with perfume the road on which they travel. 50, 526, 12: “The
Christian should profess his faith everywhere, wearing it like a
royal diadem on his brow.” 50, 622, 36: “The body of the mother
- of the Maccabees was added to the choir of her sons as a most
precious gem is inserted in a crown.” 50, 618, 50: The bodies of
the martyrs covered with wounds are likened to glorious kingly
crowns set with pearls and gems. 49, 41, 26: “As too large a
shoe hiiders one in walking, so superfluous wealth is a hindrance

77

on the journey to heaven.” 50, 635, 13: Sts. Bernice and Pros-
doce, flying from their city at the time of persecution, are com-
pared to persons who flee from a burning house at midnight. The
same image is applied to Antioch, 49, 35, 19.

A classical commonplace is contained in the following, 50, 589,
51: “As one who hands a sharp sword to a madman becomes a
party to the murder committed by him, so a bishop who lends the
approval of his authority to one living wickedly contracts the
guilt of all his sins.” ?

The comparison of man to an actor on the stage of the world,
which is a current theme among the philosophers and rhetors, is
developed at length by Chrysostom in 48, 1034, 54.

Thus far we have reviewed only the chief themes which
appear in Chrysostom’s comparisons, and only in a few cases
have we called attention to the artistic qualities of the compari-
sons themselves. There still remains the task of examining in
how far Chrysostom, in his development of these themes, reflects
the methods of the sophists, in other words, we must point out
the comparisons which are ingenious, far-fetched, minutely de-
tailed, exaggerated, paradoxical, redundant, or which show bad
taste.

Here are some fair specimens of the studied ingenuity which
the sophists reckoned as one of the highest accomplishments of a
finished artist :

In the conclusion of one of his sermons Chrysostom says:
“We must briefly recapitulate what we have said, and imitate
mothers who put into their children’s lap fruit, dainties, and the
like. Lest they lose some of the things given to them, the mothers
tuck up their garments on all sides, and thrust them securely
under the girdle. Let us do the same, summarizing our long-
drawn out discourse, and depositing it in the care of memory,”
50, 119, 18.

The body of St. Meletius, buried in the tomb, but spiritually
efficacious, is compared to a wonderful hidden root, itself invis-
ible, but showing its vigor by its fruits, 50, 515, 23.

In the following comparison a natural phenomenon is chosen
to illustrate the paradoxical aspect of a miracle—a typically
sophistic procedure: “As well-diggers, when they dig up the veins -
of the earth, cause a more copious flow of water, so the tyrant
who severed the root of St. Roman’s tongue was overwhelmed
with a more violent flood of reproaches,” 50, 616, 65.

2 Cf. Plato, Rep. I, 331 C.

78

Here is an elaborate comparison on St. Pelagia, who, sur-
rounded in her home by a band of soldiers, won a martyr’s crown
by hurling herself from the roof of her house, 50, 581, 49: “As
a merchant-ship, with a cargo of ointments and precious pearls,
at the very mouth of the harbor, escapes the shock of a billow
which had threatened to engulf it, and is raised up by the force
of the tide and carried with greater speed into the harbor: so too
it was with the Blessed Pelagia; for the rush of the soldiers, the
fear of impending tortures, and the menacing attitude of the
judge, falling upon her with more violence than a billow, only
urged her to fly more quickly up to heaven.”

An example of studied prettiness occurs in the discourse On
St. Meletius, 50, 515, 36: “As one fashioning a crown of gold
adds to the splendor of the diadem by inserting pearls in the mass
of gems: so I, twining this day a garland of praise for this blessed
head, weave into the texture of my discourse the frequent repe-
tition of his name.”

Hom. 11 On the Maccabees opens with a far-fetched and ex-
aggerated comparison, which is meant to illustrate the preacher’s
dmopia, 50, 623, 17: “When I consider the glorious deeds of the
Seven Martyrs, I fare like a miser who, sitting by a stream of
liquid gold with seven tubes attached, strives to draw out the
whole flood, but retreats after untold labor, leaving the greater
part of his task undone. .... 4s

Sometimes the first member of a comparison is nothing else
than a disguised ecphrasis, or artistic description, absorbing all
the interest and eclipsing entirely the main idea. It serves no
longer to illustrate the latter, but is simply a bit of ornament
introduced for the sake of entertaining the audience. Thus
Chrysostom likens St. Paul to a physician, 50, 499, 2: “When you
see the doctor now cauterizing, now fomenting (the diseased
parts), now employing the knife, now medicine, now stinting the
sick person as to food and drink, and again, bidding him to par-
take liberally of the same; now wrapping him up tightly, and
again, when he is thoroughly warm, ordering him to drink a whole
tumbler of cold water,—you do not in such cases criticize the con-
stant change of method..... Much more must we praise St.
Paul adapting himself to sinners, for those who are sick in soul
need no less skilful treatment than the sick of body etc.”

A similar specimen occurs in 49, 51, 59, where fasting is com-
pared to a medicine,’ and again in 50, 707, 55, where an actual

3 Cf. Guignet, 179.

79

battle scene and the struggles of the martyrs are contrasted:
“What is the terrible thing in a battle? Two armies, well en-
trenched, are arrayed against one another, bristling with weapons
and armour, the gleam of which illumines the earth; from every
side clouds of arrows are discharged, which obscure the light of
day. Rivers of blood flood the ground, and many are cut down
everywhere, like the crops at harvest time, so violent is the clash
of the opposing hosts. Now let me show you another kind of
battle. Here also are two hostile armies, the one of the martyrs,
the other of the tyrants; but the tyrants are fully armed, while
the martyrs fight without arms or armour, and the victory goes
to the unarmed, not to the armed.” Note the emphasis on the
paradoxical. In 708, 20, 1b., the martyrs’ struggle is compared to
an athletic combat, and, 7b. 30, their wonderful victory is likened
to that of a soldier who would be forced to enter the battle with
the point of his spear broken off, without his cuirass, and who,
though bruised and battered and covered with myriads of wounds,
would come off victorious. A similar paradoxical contrast is
pursued at length in the fourth discourse on St. Paul, 50, 492, 43.

More generally however, all the minute points of the first
member of the comparison are faithfully and exactly retraced in
the second. We.have already observed the sophistic method of
searching after a great number of coincidences in minute points;
it is strikingly exemplified in this description of a warrior’s tent,
which serves as a comparison with the tomb of the martyrs, 50,
680, 58: “The mere fame of a celebrated champion is enough to
rouse a soldier; much more, however, does the sight and aspect
of such a one move him, especially if he enters the tent of the
brave warrior, and sees the gory sword, the head of his enemy
lying on the ground, the spoils suspended, the fresh blood dripping
from the hands of him who erected the trophy ; if he sees every-
where spears, bucklers, bows, and the other panoply of war.
Therefore we too are met here. For the grave of the martyr is a
soldier’s tent ; and if you open the eyes of faith, you will see there
the cuirass of justice, the buckler of faith, the helmet of salvation,
the greaves of the gospel, the sword of the spirit, and the very
head of the devil lying on the ground. For when you see a de-
moniac lying on his back by the martyr’s tomb, lacerating his face,
you are beholding nothing else than the head of the devil. Even
now such weapons lie by the side of the soldiers of Christ; and,
as kings bury brave chiefs with their arms, so Christ too buried
the martyrs with their weapons, that he might even before the

80

resurrection exhibit the glory and power of the saints.” A curi-
ous specimen of sophistic workmanship, interesting because the
series of metaphors, cuirass of justice etc., is borrowed from St.
Paul (Ephes. VI, 11-17). Was this detailed description prompted
by that passage? If so, it would show how the sophist enlarged
on an already elaborate allegory of Holy Scripture.

Contrast with this martial scene a pastoral ecphrasis of poet-
ical beauty, forming the first part of a comparison between a
flock of sheep in pasture and the flock of Christ, 50, 683, 24:
“Industrious shepherds, when they see how the sun’s bright rays
shining through the long winter have at length brought warmer
weather, drive their sheep out of the folds to their usual pastures.
Imitating them, our worthy shepherd (Flavian) has led this holy
and spiritual flock of Christ to these spiritual pastures of the
saints. The sheep, it is true, get their fill standing at the manger,
but once outside the pen, they derive more benefit from the
meadows, bending down with great delight, nibbling off the grass
with their teeth, breathing the fresh air, looking up at the bright
and clear sunlight, and gamboling by lakes, springs, and rivers.
The earth too, decked everywhere with flowers, gives them pleas-
ure. This is true not only of these but of us also. For us too,
indeed, there is set within the church a table full of spiritual
viands, but this going out to the graves of the holy martyrs affords
us great consolation and not less advantage. Not because we
breathe the fresh air, but because we fix our gaze on the grand
deeds of these noble heroes. We leap with joy, not by rivers of
- flowing water, but by the streams of divine grace; not grazing
with heads bowed down to earth, but culling the virtues of the
martyrs; not contemplating the earth decked with flowers, but
bodies teeming with spiritual gifts.” The scrupulous nicety of
detail in this picture is the strongest indication of its sophistic
character.

A like elaborate ecphrasis occurs in 50, 494, 53, where St.
Paul’s preaching of the Gospel is compared in its effects to the ~
rising of the sun. A graphic description of a pilot’s resourceful-
ness during a storm, applied to St. Roman, Martyr, occurs in 50,
615, 44. Another striking comparison taken from painting, in
which the second part develops into a colorful portrayal of the
tortures of the martyrs, will be quoted in the chapter on the
ecphrasis.

The following passage will demonstrate how Chrysostom
could draw a moral with telling power in the form of a compari-

81

son, 50, 649, 56: “The martyrs shed their blood: let your eyes
shed tears, for tears can extinguish the fire of sins. Their sides
were lacerated, they beheld the executioners surrounding them:
you do this with your conscience. Place your reason as an im-
partial judge on the throne of your soul, and bring forward all
your sins. Confront them with menacing reflections, chastise your
impure thoughts, from which spring your sins, and torture them
most violently. If we so practice judging ourselves, we shall
escape that terrible judgment.” The picture is grand and
powerful.

We come now to a phase of Chrysostom’s art which proves
how thoroughly he was permeated with the sophistic spirit; we
mean his immoderate heaping up of comparisons on one subject,
a trait already noted in regard to his metaphors. In his desire
for ornamentation, he gives free rein to his rich and lively fancy,
outrivaling in this respect even the most radical sophists. Guignet
(182) notes as excessive Himerius’ employment of five compari-
sons in five successive lines, and remarks that Gregory Nazianzen
is never guilty of such immoderation. But Himerius is moderate
compared with Chrysostom, for we find in 52, 410, 14, fourteen
short comparisons, in 51, 44, 38, eight, and in 50, 447, 49, six
comparisons following in close succession. What makes them
more artificial is their parallel structure, enhanced by homoiote-
leuton, so that they form well-balanced periods of parisa. The
fourteen comparisons illustrate the intimate bond of union be-
tween God and the human soul, and are borrowed from Sacred
Scripture: “For He espoused her as a wife, He loves her as a
daughter, He provides for her as a handmaid, He guards her as
a virgin, He fences her round like a garden, and cherishes her
like a member; as a head He provides for her, as a root He
causes her to grow, as a shepherd He feeds her, as a bridegroom
He weds her, as a propitiation He pardons her, as a sheep He is
sacrificed, as a bridegroom He preserves her in beauty, as a hus-
band He provides for her support.”

The series of eight comparisons occurs (51, 44, 38) in Chrys-
ostom’s Hom. on the Narrow Gate and on the Lord’s Prayer:
“When a person leaps like a steer, kicks like an ass, is as vindictive
as a camel, gluttonous like a bear, robs like a wolf, stings like a
scorpion, is treacherous as a fox, and neighs after women like a
stallion—how can such a one utter the cry befitting a son and call
God his father ?”

82

The dry and mechanical fashion in which Chrysostom enu-
merates these series of short comparisons makes them appear as
a mere display of rhetorical virtuosity. Here are some more
examples of Chrysostom’s prolixity: 49, 50, 50: “As when the
winter is over and the summer is appearing, the sailor draws his
vessel to the deep ; and the soldier burnishes his arms, and makes
ready his steed for the battle; and the husbandman sharpens his
sickle; and the traveler boldly undertakes a long journey, and
the wrestler strips and bares himself for the contest. So too,
when the fast makes its appearance like a kind of spiritual sum-
mer, let us as soldiers burnish our weapons; and as husbandmen
let us sharpen our sickle etc.” In 50, 576, 49, the martyrs are
compared to pillars, towers, rocks, stars, and steers.

This heaping of comparisons becomes even more unbearable
when it is coupled with a mixing of figures, as in 52, 416, 42,
where hoarded wealth is likened to a lion, leopard, or bear which
grows fierce and savage when confined in a dark place: “Thus
wealth, securely locked up and buried in the ground, roars more
fiercely than a lion . . . . but if you lead it out of the dark and
scatter it in the bellies of the poor, the wild beast becomes a sheep,
the enemy a friend, the rock a harbor, the shipwreck a calm.”
Note the series of paradoxes.

It is Chrysostom’s desire to formulate a paradox that makes
him apply two antithetical images to one subject in 50, 707, 39:
“Let no one censure us, if we call the host of martyrs a band of
dancers (xopés), and an army in battle-array (qapdragis) . .
for like dancers they hastened to the scenes of torture with de-
light, and like warriors they displayed great courage and endur-
ance and overcame their adversaries.” He then concludes with
a well-balanced parison which we have already quoted (p. 46).
The bad taste of the hyperbole which represents the martyrs as
dancers at a feast and the striking paradox stamp this Conia
as strongly sophistical.

Here is an overwrought comparison of the melodramatic kind,
on St. Barlaam, Martyr, who, rather than offer incense to the
gods, suffered his right hand to be consumed by the sacrificial fire,
50, 680, 11: “As a brave warrior rushes against the foe, routs their
line, and breaks his sword with the frequent blows he deals ; then
turns about and demands another sword, because he is not satis-
fied with the slaughter of the foe: so the Blessed Barlaam, having
lost his hand in cutting down the phalanxes of the demons, wished
for another right hand, to show his alacrity by sacrificing it also.”

83

With this last extravagant remark compare Polemo’s Declama-
tion A, 11, where Cynaegirus, both of whose hands were cut off
in the battle of Marathon, shows his eagerness to fight by up-
braiding nature for her scantiness and demanding more hands
of her.

Illustrating the idea that, in consequence of Christ’s victory
over death, even young maidens like St. Pelagia fearlessly courted
a martyr’s death, Chrysostom makes a comparison which is so
strongly exaggerated as to be comical, 50, 579, 15: “As a mighty
hunter takes a lion which has been terrorizing, and making in-
roads on his flock, knocks out his teeth, shears his hair, and thus
makes him the butt of laughter and ridicule, giving him to the
shepherd lads and girls to play with: so Christ took death, who
was feared by human nature, and who terrorized our whole race,
robbed him of his terrors, and delivered him over, so that even
young girls can make sport of him.” This image was probably
suggested by the custom, prevalent in Chrysostom’s time, of
leading tamed lions about the market-place.*

Here is another comparison that amuses by its grotesqueness :
In 51, 117, 22, St. Paul is likened to “a big fish, stirring up the
sea and raising countless billows against the Church ....: “As
a fisherman poised on a high rock, with rod raised up, drops his
hook into the sea, so indeed our Lord, showing forth a spiritual
type of fishing, was seated, as it were, on the high rock of the
heavens, and dropped like a hook the words: ‘Saul, Saul, why
persecutest thou me?’ Thus he caught this huge fish. And what
happened in the case of the fish caught by Peter at the Lord’s
behest came to pass in this one also. This fish too was found
holding a counterfeit stater in his jaws: for he had zeal, but not
a wise zeal..... And as they when drawn out of the sea
straightway become blind, so he had no sooner swallowed the
hook, than he was struck with blindness. However, this blind-
ness brought sight to the whole world.” Note the oxymoron in
the last line. This is a curious sample of sophistic art. The
labored ingenuity with which trivial details are worked out and
the bad taste of the whole image leave no doubt as to its sophistic
nature.

For the end of this chapter we have reserved a long series of
comparisons, which fairly teems with sophistic mannerisms and
bad taste. This series occurs in 50, 688, 38, on St. Drosis, the
Virgin-Martyr : “As maniacs see nothing as it truly is, but whether

* Cf 53,751 3S

84

it be a sharp sword, or fire, or an abyss, or a precipice, or the sea,
hurl themselves into it without fear; so she, mad with a madness
not like this, God forbid! but with a madness more excellent than
any wisdom (oxymoron), and steeped with longing for Christ,
saw nothing of what she saw (oxymoron), but, as if she were
transferred to heaven and abiding there in spirit, she laughed at
all terrors and looked upon the fire not as fire, but as dew (8pdcor).
Therefore I call that pyre a fountain of purest water, and a won-
derful bath of dye, and a smelting-furnace. For the soul of this
blessed one was purified by fire, as gold is in a furnace. Though
her flesh fell to pieces, and her bones were charred, and her sinews
consumed, and the humor of her body flowed down on all sides,
yet the faith of her soul grew more firm and bright. .... The
layman, when he sees the melting gold run down and mix with
the ashes, thinks it is spoiled and ruined, but the skilled artisan
knows that so it becomes purer, and after it is burnt, he draws it
forth shining brightly. Thus, in her case too, the infidels, seeing
her flesh consumed and falling to pieces, fancied it was turning to
dust and ashes, but the faithful well knew that, consumed by the
fire, it was casting off all dross, and endowed with immortality
was ascending more radiant (to heaven).”

“Moreover, whilst yet at the stake, and even before her resur-
rection, she conquered the hostile powers in a striking manner ;
for her flesh, while being consumed by the fire, made a hissing
sound and routed them completely. And asa brave soldier, armed
with steel weapons, by their very clang strikes terror into his
cowardly foe, so too the Blessed Drosis, with the hissing of her
skin, put to flight the infernal powers; and not only in this way,
but in another not less wonderful. For no sooner had she mounted
the pyre when the smoke ascending filled the air and choked the
demons flying about, and drove away the devil, thus purifying the
atmosphere. .... And the image of a fountain would fitly apply
to that pyre; for, as if she were putting off a garment in the
fountain and washing her body, so she put off her flesh in the
fire with more ease than any garment, and made her soul bright,
and accompanied by the angels hastened to her Bridegroom. If
the angels conducted Lazarus, who was covered with ulcers, to
the bosom of Abraham; with much more likelihood did they,
forming a body-guard, take her as from a sacred bridal-chamber
and lead her to her heavenly Spouse. And why do I call that
pyre a bath of dye? Because she was sent up to the King of
heaven as if changed to royal purple in a bath of dye

85

Christ himself with unseen hand holding the sacred head and dip-
ping it into the fire as into water. O wonderful pyre! what a
treasure it held! that dust and ashes being more precious than
gold, more fragrant than any ointment, and more valuable than
any gem.”

We note as evidences of strong sophistic coloring the two
cases of oxymoron, the immoderate heaping of such heterogene-
ous ideas as dew, fountain, bath of dye, smelting-furnace, and
bridal-chamber, the improper image of a maniac applied to the
martyr, the puerile figure of the hissing of flesh likened to the
clang of steel, the marked tendency to ecphrasis, and the studied
minuteness of detail. The desire to make a pun on the martyr’s
name (Apoois) probably suggested the paradoxical comparison
of fire to dew (Spdaos).

In summing up the sophistic traits of Chrysostom’s compari-
sons, we must note, first of all, that in practice he often loses
sight of the real purpose of the comparison as defined by himself.
He frequently indulges in a heaping up of comparisons, thus
giving a vain display of rhetorical pyrotechnics. His themes are
largely those of the rhetorical schools. He develops them in
truly sophistic fashion, with the result that many of his compari-
sons are exaggerated, paradoxical, far-fetched, bizarre, and puer-
ile. Others are pursued with studied ingenuity into the minutest
details. Thus every phase of Chrysostom’s use of the comparison
emphasizes still more the influence of sophistic rhetoric on his
oratory.

CHAPTER VII

THE ECPHRASIS

The metaphor and the comparison are not devices of style
which are peculiar to the sophists. We find them in all writers
of every literature. It is only in the characteristic method of their
employment that the sophistic manner manifests itself. But the
fondness for concrete and graphic representation, of which they
are the expression, reveals itself in Chrysostom by a form of
exposition which is essentially sophistic, the Ecphrasis. The
ecphrasis owes its name and definition to the rhetoricians. It is
a species of narration, or rather description, whose purpose is to
give a lifelike portrayal of an object in all its details. It is a
painting in words. The favorite themes of the sophists, which
they borrowed from the Alexandrine poets, were descriptions of
nature, the sea, meadows, caves, animals, birds, especially the
peacock ; descriptions of works of art, paintings, statues, temples
etc. ; descriptions of the human body etc.*

We have already noted in the preceding chapter how the germ
or even the fully developed form of the ecphrasis often appears
in the comparison. We refer especially to the description of a
battle (p. 79), of a warrior’s tent (p. 1b.), of a flock of sheep in
pasture (p. 80). While quoting one or more further examples
of this kind, we shall turn our attention here chiefly to the
ecphrasis in its pure and independent form.

It is not surprising that the Christian orators of the fourth
century should adopt a device so well calculated to impart life and
color to their discourses and so acceptable to the public. More-
over, the topics of their sermons, such as the harrowing spectacles
- of martyrdom, the dramatic scenes of the Old and New Testa-
ment, the grandeur and beauty of the universe, invited and fully
justified graphic portrayal. We might, however, expect them to
remain within the limits of artistic necessity, but this is not always
the case, as Méridier’s study of Gregory of Nyssa (139), and
Guignet’s work on Gregory Nazianzen (187) sufficiently prove.
Chrysostom is occasionally guilty of the same fault, though we
shall see him at times putting a powerful check on his bent for

1 Cf. Norden, Die Antike Kunstprosa I, 408, note 2.
86

87

descriptive detail. Since elaborate descriptions are not so fre-
quent in Chrysostom, we have drawn our examples not only from
the sermons, but also from other of his writings.

Descriptions of nature: 56, 265, 48: “For your sake the sun
rises, and the moon lights up the night, and the changeful chorus
of stars beams forth; for you the winds blow, and the rivers
flow ; for you the seeds germinate, and the plants grow, and nature
keeps her wonted course, and the day appears and the night van-
ishes.” In Hom. IX on the Statues, we find this descriptive
passage, 49, 114, 37: “Follow me whilst I enumerate the meadows,
the gardens, the various tribes of flowers; all sorts of herbs and
their uses; their odors, forms, disposition, yea, but their very
names; the trees which are fruitful, and which are barren; the
nature of metals,—and of animals,—in the sea, or on the land;
of those that swim, and those that traverse the air; the moun-
tains, the forests, the groves ; the meadow below, and the meadow
above; for there is a meadow on the earth, and a meadow too in
the sky ; the various flowers of the stars; the rose below, and the
rainbow above! Would you have me point out also the meadow
of birds? Consider the variegated body of the peacock, sur-
passing every dye, and the fowls of purple plumage. Contemplate
with me the beauty of the sky ; how it has been preserved so long
without being dimmed, and remains as bright and clear as if it
had been only fabricated today ; moreover, the power of the earth,
how its womb has not become effete by bringing forth during so
long a time! Contemplate with me the fountains ; how they burst
forth and fail not, since the time they were begotten, to flow forth
continually throughout the day and night! Contemplate with me
the sea, receiving so many rivers, yet never exceeding its
measure !”

This is an inspiring hymn on the marvels of creation, and it
shows us Chrysostom using the ecphrasis for an eminently prac-
tical purpose, to fill the minds of the faithful with admiration for
the wisdom and power of God. The details are briefly sketched,
and the whole description is more simple than the one in Gregory
Nazianzen on the same theme.? It is of interest to note that
Chrysostom resists the temptation to enlarge on the plumage of
the peacock, a subject which every sophist loved to treat. Gregory
Nazianzen, however, gives a gorgeous ecphrasis of the peacock in
the passage referred to, and Gregory of Nyssa also has an elab-

2 Cf. Guignet, 190 ff.

88

orate description of that bird.* In Hom. XI on the Statues (49,
122 and 123), Chrysostom describes with the accuracy of a
physiologist the wonderful structure of the human eye, the eye-
lashes, eyebrows, the brain, and the heart as revealing the wisdom
of the Creator.

Parallel between a meadow or garden, and the Holy Scrip-
tures, 52, 395, 64: “Delectable indeed are the meadow and the
garden, but far more delectable is the study of the divine writings.
For there indeed are flowers which fade, but here are thoughts
which abide in full bloom; there is the breeze of the zephyr, but
here the breath of the Spirit; there is the hedge of thorns, but
here is the guarding providence of God; there is the song of
cicadae, but here the melody of the prophets ; there is the pleasure
which comes from sight, but here the profit which comes from
study. The garden is confined to one place, but the Scriptures are
in all parts of the world; the garden is subject to the necessities
of the seasons, but the Scriptures are rich in foliage and laden
with fruit alike in winter and in summer.” A very poetical de-
scription sketched with the delicate art of the rhetor. Meadows,
gardens, and the cicada were favorite themes of description. Also
note the paradox in the last clause of the passage.

St. Paul’s preaching is compared to the rising sun in its effects,
50, 494, 53: “As, when the sun rises, darkness is dispelled, wild
beasts slink away and lurk in their lairs, robbers flee, murderers
take refuge in their dens, pirates cease from their trade, grave-
breakers withdraw, and adulterers, thieves, and housebreakers
depart to some distant place and vanish for fear of being detected
and convicted by the sun’s beams, and all becomes bright and
clear, the earth and the ocean, while the sun from on high illu-
mines everything, the seas, the mountains, the lands, and the
cities: so too, when the Gospel appeared, and Paul spread it
broadcast, error was dispelled, truth returned, and fumes and the
smoke (of sacrifices), and cymbals and kettle drums, drunkenness
and revels, fornication and adultery, and other unmentionable
deeds wont to be perpetrated at the sacrifices ceased and were
abolished, melting like wax in the fire and vanishing like chaff in
the flame.” The elaborate structure of this long period is empha-
sized by eighteen cases of polysyndeton, ten at the beginning, and
eight at the end. Poetical color is imparted by the frequent
homoioteleuta, for which we refer to the Greek text. Highway-

8 Cf. Méridier, 144.

89

men, pirates, grave-robbers, and housebreakers are pet themes in
sophistic literature.

Here are two short sketches of poetical delicacy, 50, 600, 46:
“The springs spout up copious floods: indeed they do not contain
them within their bosom, but bringing forth large rivers they join
the sea, and stretching forth, as it were, their long fingers they
reach the waters of the ocean.” Speaking of a species of wild
vines, 50, 600, 54: “For, when they push forward their shoots
over the top of the reeds, the tendrils creeping through the
branches advance very far, thus furnishing a spacious roof for
the dense foliage.”

The weirder aspects of nature are sketched with no less ability
than its calmer moods. An ecphrasis of a storm on the sea occurs
in the first Letter to Olympias, 52, 549, 25: “If you like I will
form an image of the things now taking place, so as to present the
tragedy yet more distinctly to you. We behold a sea upheaved
from the very lowest depths, some sailors floating dead upon the
waves, others engulfed by them, the planks of the ships broken
up, the sails torn to tatters, the masts sprung, the oars dashed out
of the sailors’ hands, the pilots seated on the deck, clasping their
knees with their hands instead of grasping the rudder, bewailing
the hopelessness of their situation with sharp cries and bitter
lamentations, neither sky nor sea clearly visible, but all one deep
and impenetrable darkness, so that no one can see his neighbor,
whilst mighty is the roaring of the billows, and monsters of the
sea attack the crews on every side.” Chrysostom here gives full
scope to his eminent descriptive powers, and the result is a so-
phistic ecphrasis of the first order, rich in detail, realistic, and
vividly colored as any painting could be. Norden‘ cites it as an
instance of the Asiatic style. Scenes of shipwreck and of a storm
on the sea are familiar from the romances of the period. In the
sermon on St. Roman, who is compared to a pilot steering his ship
during a storm, we find this realistic image, 50, 615, 52: “The sea
of idolatry was roaring blasphemies, and raging against the ship
of the Church, and belching forth a foam of blood against the
altars... .. ” This is a favorite theme with Chrysostom; we
find it treated again in 49, 109, 2, with a practical aim: “Behold
this sea abounding with waves, and fierce winds; yet this sea,
spacious and large, and furious as it is, is walled in with feeble
sand! Mark also the wisdom of God, He permitted it not to be
at rest, nor tranquil, lest you should suppose its good order to be

* Die Antike Kunstprosa I, 571.

90

of mere natural regulation; but remaining within its limits, it
lifts up its voice, and is in tumult, and roars aloud, and raises its
waves to a prodigious height. But when it comes to the shores,
and beholds the sand, it breaks up, and returns back again within
itself ; teaching you, by both these things, that it is not the work
of nature that it remains within its boundaries, but the work of
Him whose power restrains it!” The description is one of simple
grandeur, and the lesson is happily drawn.

Thus far we have reviewed only descriptions of nature, but
the sophist’s art was not restricted to so narrow a field. He must
needs be able to describe a great variety of subjects, such as
feasts, persons, works of art etc.

Commenting on the text: “When thou makest a dinner or a
supper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, nor thy neighbors
who are rich . . . . but the poor, the maimed, the lame, and the
blind.” > Chrysostom makes this elaborate parallel, 62, 304, 36:
“Let us suppose two tables, and let one be filled with these, and
have the blind, the halt, the maimed in hand or leg, the barefoot,
those clad with but one scanty garment, and that worn out: but
let the other have grandees, generals, governors, great officers,
arrayed in costly robes and fine lawn, belted with golden girdles.
Again, here at the table of the poor let there be neither silver, nor
store of wine, but just enough to refresh and gladden, and let
the drinking cups and the rest of the vessels be made from glass
only ; but there, at the table of the rich, let all the vessels be of
silver and gold, and the semicircular table, not such as one person
can lift, but as two young men can with difficulty move, and the
wine-jars lie in order, glittering far beyond the silver with gold,
and let the semicircle be smoothly laid all over with soft drapery.
Here, again, let there be many servants, in garments not less orna-
mented than those of the guests, and bravely appareled, and wear-
ing loose trousers, men beauteous to look upon, in the very flower
of life, plump, and well conditioned: but there let there be only
two servants disdaining all that proud vanity. And let those have
costly meats, but these only enough to appease hunger and inspire
cheerfulness.” There is something dry and labored about this
long description. The details are so plentiful that the preacher
is sure of having satisfied the taste of his audience, for he con-
tinues: “Have I said enough? and are both tables laid out with
sufficient minuteness? Is anything wanting? I think not. For
I have gone over the guests, and the costliness of the vessels, and

5 Luke XIV, 12, 13.

91

of the linen, and of the meats.” Here we have the preacher’s
own admission that the exuberance of detail in this picture is
conscious and intentional. Gregory Nazianzen gives an even more
elaborate sketch of the refined luxury displayed in the houses of
the rich.®

In the dramatic apostrophe to Eutropius, which opens the first
homily of that name, 52, 391, we get a brilliant picture of the
departed glory of the onetime powerful consul, who was clinging
to the altar for asylum while Chrysostom thundered forth:
“Vanity of vanities, all is vanity—it is always seasonable to
utter this, but more especially at the present time. Where are
now the brilliant surroundings of your consulship? where are the
gleaming torches? Where is the dancing, and the noise of
dancers’ feet, and the banquets and the festivals? where are the
garlands and the curtains of the theatre? where is the applause
which greeted you in the city, where the acclamation in the hip-
podrome and the flatteries of spectators? They are gone—all
gone! A wind has blown upon the tree shattering down all its
leaves, and showing it to us quite bare, and shaken to its very
root; for so great has been the violence of the blast, that it has
given a shock to all these fibres of the tree, and threatens to tear
it up from the roots. Where now are your feigned friends?
where are your drinking parties and your suppers? where is the
swarm of parasites, and the wine which used to be poured forth
all day long, and the manifold dainties invented by your cooks?
where are they who courted your power and did and said every-
thing to win your favor? They were all mere visions of the
night and dreams which have vanished with the dawn of day:
they were spring flowers, and when the spring was over they all
withered: they were a shadow which has passed away—they were
a smoke which has dispersed, bubbles which have burst, cobwebs
which have been rent in pieces. Therefore we chant continually
this spiritual.song—‘Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.’”

Never was the emptiness of human glory driven home with
more telling force. The cry, “Vanity of vanities,” comes like a
natural refrain at the close of this pathetic dirge. The allegory
of the tree graphically portrays the forlorn state of the wretched
Eutropius. However, the power and beauty of this grand passage
are impaired by that besetting fault of Chrysostom’s style, an
oriental profusion of images. Seven metaphors, couched in six
short clauses of parallel structure with homoioteleuta, follow one

* Cf. Guignet, 205 ff.

92

another in quick succession. This is Asiatic oratory in its highest
development.

Descriptions of persons: Chrysostom, like Gregory Nazian-
zen,’ seems to have been averse to descriptions of physical beauty,
for he is always harping on the futility of such charms, and laying
stress on beauty of the soul. His attitude towards descriptions of
cities, much in vogue among the sophists, was the same, as the
following passage indicates, 49, 179, 8: “When you wish to pro-
nounce an encomium on the city, tell me not of the suburb of
Daphne, nor of the height and multitude of its cypresses, nor of
its fountains of waters, nor of the great population who inhabit
the city, nor of the great freedom with which its market-place is
frequented even to midnight, nor of the abundance of its wares!
.. . . Butif you are able to mention virtue, meekness etc. . . . . ;
commend the city for these things!” A little further on (ib. 22)
we read: “And if you see a big man, who has been brought into
good condition, tall, and surpassing others in length of limb, do
not admire him, until you have ascertained what the man’s soul is.
Not from the outward comeliness, but from the beauty that
appertains to the soul, should we pronounce any person blessed!”

But sometimes the stern preacher gives way to the sophist
rhetor, as when he defines bodily beauty, 52, 412, 55: “What is
beauty of body? An extended eyebrow, a merry glance, a
blushing cheek, ruddy lips, a straight neck, long wavy hair, taper-
ing fingers, upright stature, a fair blooming complexion.” Later
he defines what virtues go to make up beauty of soul. This defi-
nition, the details of which are dryly enumerated like a lesson of
philosophy, for Chrysostom says (ib. 61) : “Attend that you may
learn the conception of philosophers,” accords with the scheme of
Menander, which all sophists rigidly followed in their descriptions
of personal beauty.

Chrysostom’s vehement denunciations of the theatre suggested
descriptions like the following, a character sketch of a youth im-
personating a young girl, of an old man in the role of a slave, and
of shameless actresses, 57, 426, 41: “For first one, being a young
man, wears his hair long behind, and changing his nature into that
of a woman, is striving both in aspect and in gesture, and in gar-
ments, and generally in all ways, to pass into the likeness of a
tender damsel. Then another who is grown old, in the opposite
way to this, having his hair shaven, and with his loins girt about,
his shame cut off before his hair, stands ready to be smitten with

7 Cf. Guignet, 200.

93

the rod, prepared both to say and to do anything. The women
again, their heads uncovered, stand without a blush, discoursing
with a whole people, so complete is their practice in shameless-
ness; and thus pour forth all effrontery and impurity into the
souls of their hearers. And their one study is, to pluck up all
chastity from the foundations, to disgrace our nature, to satiate
the desire of the wicked demon. Yea, and there are both foul
sayings, and gestures yet fouler; and the dressing of the hair
tends that way, and the gait, and apparel, and voice, and flexure
of the limbs; and there are turnings of the eyes, and flutes, and
pipes, and dramas, and plots; all things, in short, full of the most
extreme impurity.” This is a scathing arraignment of the loose
morals of the stage. The individual sketches are complete and
true to life; they are drawn from personal observation, for, as a
young lawyer, Chrysostom had attended theatrical performances.®
In his sermon Against the Games and Theatres, 56, 266, 37, is a
short ecphrasis of a lewd dancer, and a little further on her image
is sketched in a few words, 1b. 267, 4: 1a pyyata, Ta oxnuata, Ta
BrEppara, 7 Bddwois, 6 prbpds, 7 Suixprors, Ta wéAN TA TOpYiKG.

Description of Eutropius in Hom. I of that name, 52, 393, 21:
“For who was more exalted than this man? Did he not surpass
the whole world in wealth? had he not climbed to the very pin-
nacle of distinction? did not all tremble and fear before him?
Yet lo! he has become more wretched than the prisoner, more
pitiable than the menial slave, more indigent than the beggar
wasting away with hunger, having every day a vision of sharp-
ened swords and of the criminal’s grave, and the public execu-
tioner leading him out to his death; and he does not even know if
he once enjoyed past pleasure, nor is he sensible even of the sun’s
ray, but at midday his sight is dimmed as if he were encompassed
by the densest gloom. .... But indeed, what need is there of
any words from me, when he himself has clearly depicted this
for us as in a visible image? For yesterday when they came to
him from the royal court intending to drag him away by force,
and he ran for refuge to the holy altar, his face was then, as it is
now, no better than the countenance of one dead: and the chat-
tering of his teeth, and the quaking and quivering of his whole
body, and his faltering voice, and stammering tongue, and in fact
his whole general appearance were suggestive of one whose soul
was petrified.”

8 On the Priesthood, 48, 624, 26.

94

This is a dramatic ecphrasis of gripping realism and touching
pathos. The faithful, many of whom harbored deep resentment
against the culprit, were moved to tears of pity (ib. 395, 31).
The metaphors and comparisons are abundant and give to the
tableau a rich and heavy coloring. Note the two cases of hyper-
bole in the statements regarding Eutropius, “Did he not surpass
the whole world in wealth?” and, “the man who was shaking the
whole world.” The remark, “what need is there of any words
from me, when he himself has clearly depicted this for us as in a
visible image,” is of special interest as throwing light on the
nature of the ecphrasis. It was the ambition of the sophists to
make the ecphrasis rival a real painting in picturesqueness of
detail, as well as in delicacy or boldness of shading. With this
object in view, they were fond of describing works of art, paint-
ings, statues etc., and sought to reproduce in words the striking
effects of the original.? Chrysostom when introducing an ecphra-
sis often uses expressions that clearly indicate his intention to
emulate the sculptor’s or the painter’s art, e.g., leading up to his
description of a storm and shipwreck on the sea, quoted above
(p. 89), we read, 52, 540, 25: ‘‘xal ei BovAa, Kai eixova dvarAdrTw
(mold, shape) rév ywopevwr,” and again, 50, 641, 34: “Recently,
beloved, weaving for you the flowery garland of spring, and de-
lineating, as it were, on the tablet of our discourse the season of
the year, we showed you not only florid groves and blooming
meadows and life-giving breezes etc.”

The Homilies on the Statues contain some very dramatic
descriptions of the gloom and despondency prevailing in Antioch
after the overthrow of the statues of the emperor, and of the
heartrending scenes occasioned by the prosecution of the guilty
inhabitants. See-especially 49, 35, 40; 56, 36; 136, 61; 137, 38.

Description of a battle on land and sea, 48, 689, 42: This ex-
tremely sophistic ecphrasis occurs in Book VI On the Priesthood,
where Chrysostom explains to his friend Basil, why he shrank
from becoming a bishop and a leader in the army of the Church.
It is in reality the first part of a lengthy comparison illustrating
the gigantic struggle of the powers of hell with the forces of
Christ. Some of the details are reminiscent of the battle scenes
of the Jliad. Descriptions of battles were in high favor with the
rhetors: “Let there be an armament composed of infantry, cav-
alry, and marines, and let a number of triremes cover the sea,

® For examples in Gregory of Nyssa see Méridier, 145, and for Gregory
Nazianzen, Guignet, 200.

95

and phalanxes of foot and horse cover most of the plains, and
the ridges of the mountains, and let the metal of their armor
reflect the sunshine, and the glitter of the helmets and shields be
reflected by the beams which are emitted from them (JI. 13, 341) ;
let the clashing of spears and the neighing of horses be borne up
to the very heavens (JI. 12, 338), and let neither sea nor land
appear, but only brass and iron in every direction. Let the enemy
be drawn up in battle array opposite to these, fierce and savage
men, and let the time of the engagement be now at hand. Then
let some one suddenly seize some young lad, one of those brought
up in the country, knowing nothing but the use of the shepherd’s
pipe and crook; let him be clad in brazen armor, and let him be
led round the whole camp and be shown the squadrons and their
officers, the archers, slingers, captains, generals, the foot and
horse, the spearmen, the triremes and their commanders, the
dense mass of soldiers in the ships, and the multitude of engines
of war lying ready on board. Let him be shown, moreover, the
whole array of the enemy, their repulsive aspect, and the varied
stores and unusual quantity of their arms; the ravines also and
precipices of the mountains, deep and difficult. Let him be shown
further on the enemy’s side, horses flying by some enchantment
and infantry borne through the air, and sorcery of every power
and form; and let him consider the calamities of war, the cloud of
spears, the hailstorm of arrows (JI. 12, 156), that great mist and
obscurity, that gloomiest night which the multitude of weapons
occasions, eclipsing the sunbeams with their cloud, the dust (JI.
13, 335) no less than the darkness baffling the eyesight. The tor-
rents of blood (JI. 15, 715), the groans of the fallen, the shouts
of the surviving (JI. 4, 450), the heaps of slain, wheels bathed in
blood (Jl. 11, 534), horses with their riders thrown down headlong
(Il. 11, 159), owing to the number of corpses, the ground a scene
of general confusion, blood, and bows, and arrows, hoofs of
horses and heads of men lying together, a human arm and a
chariot wheel and a helmet, a breast pierced through, brains stick-
ing to swords, the point of a dart broken off with an eye transfixed
upon it. Then let him reckon up the sufferings of the naval force,
the triremes burning in the midst of the waves, and sinking with
their armed crews, the roaring of the sea, the tumult of the sailors,
the shout of the soldiers, the foam of the waves mixed with blood,
and dashing over into all the ships ; the corpses on the decks, some
sinking, some floating, some cast upon the beach, overwhelmed by
the waves, and obstructing the passage of the ships. And when

96

he has been carefully instructed in all the tragedy of warfare, let
the horrors of captivity and slavery be added to it, worse than
any kind of death; and having told him all this, bid him mount his
horse straightway, and take command of all that armament.”
This is an ideal sophistic ecphrasis worthy of an Aristides or a
Libanius. The latter’s sketch in his Progymnasmata is on a
smaller scale and takes in the scene of a battle on land only, while
Chrysostom’s includes besides the spectacle of a naval engage-
ment. Its elaborate character is emphasized by the multiplicity
- of details, some of which are of gruesome realism, the frequent
parisa and occasional homoioteleuta, the bold image of “horses
flying by some enchantment, and infantry borne through the air,”
and the metaphors, “cloud of spears,” “the hailstorm of arrows,”
“that great mist . . . ., that gloomiest night which the multitude
of weapons occasions, eclipsing the sunbeams with their cloud,” *°
and “the torrents of blood.” Note also the metaphor, “tragedy of
warfare,” a favorite expression of the sophists for scenes of a
dramatic nature. It is interesting to compare with this ecphrasis
of immoderate length the short one on the same theme, quoted in
the chapter on comparisons (p. 79). In the latter Chrysostom
has confined himself to a few meagre details, feeling, perhaps,
that so lengthy a description would be out of place in a sermon.

Descriptions of scenes of martyrdom: These are very numer-
ous in the Christian orators and writers. It was natural that, in
extolling the heroism of these valiant champions of the faith, they
would dwell on the details of their agonizing struggles. Chrysos-
tom is particularly fond of such descriptions. The following is a
curious example of a descriptive soliloquy put into the mouth of
Satan, who is represented as dissatisfied with the results of his
plots against the Christians. The passage contains a series of
comparisons that exhibit the flowery exuberance of Chrysostom’s
style, 50, 609, 31: “I strewed red-hot coals under their feet, but
they walked on them as on roses. I kindled fires, but they hurled
themselves into them as into fountains of cooling water. I lac-
erated their sides and cut in them deep furrows and drew forth
rivers of blood, but they gloried as if bathed in (liquid) gold. I
cast them down precipices and drowned them in the sea, but they
exulted and rejoiced as if ascending to heaven, not as going down
into the deep; as if dancing in a sacred procession, and disporting
on a green meadow ; they snatched at tortures, not as if they were

10 This commonplace of the rhetors is ridiculed by Lucian in his
Teacher of Rhetoric, 18.

97

tortures, but as if plucking spring flowers and putting on a gar-
ar ” The exaggerated and declamatory tone of this
soliloquy is a sufficient indication of its sophistic character.

This exaggeration of tone appears quite frequently in the
descriptions of the tortures of the martyrs, and is sometimes com-
bined with a gruesome realism, that is shocking to a modern
reader, ¢.g., 50, 708, 49: “For they bound them on the rack, and
dug their sides, and cut deep furrows, as if plowing the earth,
and not cleaving bodies in twain; and one could see flanks cut
open, ribs laid bare, breasts crushed in. And not even at this
point did these blood-thirsty beasts halt in their rage, but taking
the bodies off the rack they stretched them upon gridirons over
red-hot coals, and here was a sight more horrible than the first,
double drippings issuing from the bodies, the ones of flowing
blood, the others of burnt flesh. But the martyrs lay on the coals
as on roses, and contemplated their tortures with delight.”

The mother of the Maccabees is described as witnessing the
dreadful agony of her sons in 50, 621, 31: “Let us consider what
that woman must have suffered, if we may call her a woman,
when she saw the fingers twitching over the red-hot coals, the
head falling off, the iron hand placed upon the head of another,
and stripping off the skin, and him who suffered all this still
standing erect and speaking.” Again, in 50, 626, 4: “When she
saw one hurrying towards the seething cauldron, another to the
frying-pan, and another being beheaded, she exulted as if she
were arraying one in his nuptial attire, and weaving garlands for
another, and spreading the nuptial couch for another. And all
was filled with smoke and the odor of roasting flesh. With all her
senses she perceived the trial of her children: she beheld them
with her eyes, she heard their words with her ears, and with her
nose perceived the odor of flesh, which was both savory and un-
savory : unsavory indeed to the unbelievers, but to God and to her
most sweet. ....

In 50, 695, 22, the executioners are represented as wild beasts,
prowling around the bodies of the martyrs, cutting open their
sides, lacerating their flesh, laying bare their bones, and pene-
trating to their very vitals. The devil is described in the same
manner in 50, 696, 22.

The sophists were fond of describing works of art, paintings,
statues, etc. Chrysostom follows the fashion in an ecphrasis on
the tortures of the martyrs sketched as in a painting, 50, 712, 5:
“Paint on the walls of your soul the tortures of the martyrs, as

98

those who wish to embellish their homes decorate them with
bright-colored pictures. This kind of painting is inexpensive and
needs no artist. .... Let us paint on our soul those lying in a
frying-pan, those stretched upon live coals, those thrown into a
seething cauldron, those drowned in the sea; others lacerated,
others stretched upon a wheel, others hurled over precipices;
some fighting with wild beasts, others thrown into a yawning
abyss, others losing their life in diverse ways, in order that, em-
bellishing our house with such pictures, we may make it a suitable
abode for the King of heaven. For if He sees such pictures in
our soul, He will come with the Father, and take up his abode in
company with the Holy Spirit, and our soul will henceforth be a
kind of royal palace ; no unseemly thought will enter there ; whilst
the memory of the martyrs, like a florid picture, will remain there
always, and will emit a great splendor, etc.” Note how happily
and with what warmth of feeling Chrysostom draws a moral
lesson in this ecphrasis.

Nothing could better illustrate Chrysostom’s adaptation of
pagan literary forms to the exigencies of the Christian homily
than the gorgeous encomium on St. John the Evangelist which
forms the introduction to Hom. I on St. John, 59, 25, and 26.
Referring briefly to the enthusiastic interest of his countrymen in
the spectacles of the games, the show-declamations of the sophists,
and the performances of musicians, Chrysostom comes to his
main subject: “And if in the case of rhetoricians, musicians, and
athletes, people sit in the one case to look on, and in the other to
see at once and to listen with such earnest attention; what zeal,
what earnestness ought you in reason to display, when it is no
musician or debater who now comes forward to a trial of skill,
but when a man is speaking from heaven, and utters a voice
plainer than thunder? for he has pervaded the whole earth with
the sound, and occupied and filled it, not by the loudness of the
cry, but by moving his tongue with the grace of God.

And what is wonderful, this sound, great as it is, is neither
harsh nor an unpleasant one, but sweeter and more delightful
than all harmony of music, and with more skill to soothe (6éAga) ;
and besides all this, most holy and most awful, and full of mys-
teries great, that if men were exactly and with ready mind to
receive and keep them, they could no longer be mere men, nor
remain upon earth, but would take their stand above all the things
of this life, and having adapted themselves to the conditions of
angels, would dwell on earth just as if it were heaven.

99

For the son of thunder, the beloved of Christ, the pillar of the
Churches throughout the world, who holds the keys of heaven,
who drank the cup of Christ, and was baptized with His baptism,
who lay upon his Master’s bosom with much confidence, this man
comes forward to us now, not as an actor of a play, not hiding his
head with a mask (for he has another sort of words to speak),
nor mounting a platform, nor striking the stage with his foot, nor
dressed out with apparel of gold, but he enters wearing a robe of
inconceivable beauty. For he will appear before us having “put
on Christ,” ** having his beautiful “feet shod with the preparation
of the Gospel of peace” ;?? wearing a girdle not about his waist,
but about his loins, not made of scarlet leather, nor daubed out-
side with gold, but woven and composed of truth itself. Now will
he appear before us, not acting a part (for with him there is noth-
ing counterfeit, nor fiction, nor fable), but with unmasked head
he proclaims to us the truth unmasked ; not making the audience
believe him other than he is by carriage, by look, by voice, needing
for the delivery of his message no instruments of music, as harp,
lyre, or any other the like, for he effects all with his tongue, utter-
ing a voice which is sweeter and more profitable than that of any
harper or any music. All heaven is his stage; his theatre the
habitable world ; his audience, all angels; and of men as many as
are angels already, or desire to become so, for none but these can
hear that harmony aright, and show it forth by their works. ... .

By this apostle stand the powers from above, marvelling at
the beauty of his soul, and his understanding, and the bloom of
that virtue by which he drew unto him Christ himself, and ob-
tained the grace of the Spirit. For he has made ready his soul,
as some well-fashioned and jeweled lyre with strings of gold,
and yielded it for the utterance of something great and sublime to
the Spirit.

The strongly sophistic color of this ecphrasis is tinctured with

Scriptural metaphors and expressions. St. John is portrayed as
_a sophist, actor, and musician of a transcendent and supramun-
dane type, contrasted with the ordinary type in a series of paral-
lels, in which the details of his appearance, dress, carriage, and
voice are traced with studious precision. The metaphors and
comparisons drawn from the stage and from musical art empha-
size the theatrical tone of the whole. The use of 6éAga: to desig-
nate the effect of St. John’s preaching is notable here, for the

11 Rom. XIII, 14; Gal. III, 27.
12 Eph. VI, 15.

100

sophists, as far back as Thrasymachus and Gorgias, regarded
KyAeiv, Oédrxyew Tovs avOpwmrovs as the chief purpose of their art.®
This description strikingly exemplifies the union of profane and
Christian elements in Chrysostom’s oratory.

We have in this chapter reviewed quite a representative col-
lection of the types of ecphrasis which were current among the
sophists. But in justice to Chrysostom we must concede that,
while some of his descriptions display an abundance of graphic
details hardly called for, there are others which exhibit great
moderation and are justified for homiletic and apologetic reasons.
Chrysostom, like Gregory Nazianzen, has transformed the futile
sophistic ecphrasis, which served only for display, into a means
of edification and moral instruction, notably by his descriptions
of the struggles of the martyrs. This transformation is another
proof of the regenerating influence of the Christian religion,
which breathed a new life into the sterile and effete forms of
pagan literature, by giving to its orators ideas of vital and ab-
sorbing interest in place of the frivolous and immoral themes of
pagan mythology.**

18 Cf. Norden, Die Antike Kunstprosa, I, 7.
14 Cf, Guignet, 210.

CONCLUSION

Our examination of the panegyrical and selected occasional
sermons of St. John Chrysostom has established the fact that the
rhetoric of the second sophistic has exerted a profound influence
on his oratory. We have traced this influence in his liberal use of
certain minor rhetorical figures, chief among which are allitera-
tion, paronomasia, and paradox; in his great fondness for clauses
of parallel structure, some of which are antithetical and enhanced
by the poetical element of the homoioteleuton ; in his immoderate
redundance of metaphors, his preference for metaphors of estab-
lished profane origin, and in the labored ingenuity, the exagger-
ated, theatrical, and extravagant tone of others; in his compari-
sons, many of which are far-fetched, bizarre, puerile, hyperbolical
and paradoxical, drawn chiefly from profane sources, heaped up
at times in excessive profusion, and pursued with studied arti-
ficiality into the minutest details. Only in regard to the ecphrasis
have we found Chrysostom less strongly influenced by profane
rhetoric. Although he reproduces some of the favorite types of
the ecphrasis, the latter is not exclusively a means of embellish-
ment with Chrysostom. On the contrary, he generally employs it
with a practical view of edification or moral instruction.

Some modern critics seem to minimize too strongly the influ-
ence of the sophistic rhetoric on Chrysostom. Thus L. Acker-
mann?‘ makes the strange statement: “Der hl. Johannes Chrysos-
tomus spricht in dem Stile des hl. Paulus. .... Der griechische
Stil ist zur Zeit des Heiligen lange nicht mehr rein und natiirlich
gewesen. Selbst Libanius, der beriihmteste Rhetoriker damaliger
Zeit, hat sich nicht dem Einflusse des schlechten Geschmackes
entziehen kénnen. Aber Chrysostomus hielt sich davon frei, sagt
Camere a> 2)... * Manirirtheit aber findet sich bei Chrysostomus

U. von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff makes the sweeping asser-
tion:* “In den grossen Reden, . . . . schwellen die wohllauten-
den Perioden an, reicher wird der Schmuck, aber nirgend etwas

1 Die Beredsamkeit des hl. Johannes Chrysostomus, 99.

2 Des hl. Kirchenlehrers Johannes Chrysostomus Predigten, verbessert

von P. Vital Mésl, 10 Bande, 2 Aufl., Augsburg 1782, Vorrede zum 2. Bd.
3 Kultur der Gegenwart, Teil I, Abt. VIII, 214.

101

102

von dem Geklapper der Reime oder Kadenzen, nur ganz sparsam
die Rede, welche Leidenschaft weckt, wohl aber die tiberlegene
Kunst dessen, der die Seele nicht uberrumpeln oder faszinieren.
sondern Kopf und Herz zugleich gewinnen will.”

O. Bardenhewer‘ minimizes the sophistic influence in Chrys-
ostom: “So gewiss er nicht umsonst die Schule. dex Libanius
besucht hat, so wird man doch nur aus seiner Anfangerzeit viel-
leicht einzelne Predigten vorweisen kénnen, in denen der So-
phistenzégling das Wort fthrt und sein Repertoire an Tropen und
Figuren ausbreitet, wahrend in der Folge der Rhetor bescheiden
hinter den Prediger zuriicktritt, und sich lediglich bestrebt zeigt,
die Zwecke des letzteren zu fordern.”

These statements, it would seem to us, are too sweeping, and
deserve to be modified or corrected, at least as regards the pane-
gyrical sermons. Chrysostom is often prodigal of rhetorical
ornament, he is not free from the bad taste and the mannerisms
of the sophistic rhetoric, there is abundant evidence of the jingle
of rhyme, and monotonous parallelism of structure, and these
traits appear not only in his earlier efforts, but also in his later
sermons.

All this does not quite harmonize with Chrysostom’s own
homiletic theories, which we have discussed in our second chapter
(p. 25 ff.). We have seen him severely denouncing those preachers
who busied themselves about the harmony and composition of
their periods, and who strove to entertain their audience by a
show of eloquence. There can be no doubt that Chrysostom him-
self is at times guilty of the very faults which he censures in
' others. Are we justified then in accusing him of insincerity?
By no means. His irreproachable, stainless character, his exalted
conception of the dignity of the Christian preacher’s office, place
him above all suspicion of insincerity. In fairness to him we
must concede that, generally, he is true to his principles, but that,
when he violates them, he does so unconsciously. The manner-
isms of profane rhetoric had become, as it were, his second nature,
so that, while he strove'to avoid the grosser excesses of the ora-
tory of show and display, he could not altogether eradicate intel-
lectual habits that were deep-rooted and of long standing. This
may be regrettable, but it is only the natural and logical result of
his education and environment.

Yet it is a great satisfaction to know that Chrysostom’s rhe-
torical defects are overborne by his excellences. Though strongly

* Geschichte der Altkirchlichen Literatur, Bd. III, 353.

103

influenced by the profane rhetoric, that influence is never oppres-
sive as in the pagan sophists, nor even as powerful as in Gregory
of Nyssa and Gregory Nazianzen. His sermons by no means
reveal that preponderance of form over matter which is so de-
plorable in the sophists, notably in his teacher Libanius. Beneath
the artistic, and sometimes artificial garb of his style, there is a
rich fund of intensely vital and practical, lofty and grand ideas,
worthy of the sublime doctrines which he propounds.

In no way then do we regard it as a misfortune that Chrys-
ostom proclaimed the simple truths of Christianity in the polished
language of profane rhetoric, nor do we wish that he had rather
chosen the plain and unadorned style of the first preachers of the
Gospel. Such a course would have been altogether unsuited to
the needs and exigencies of the times. The refined and cultured
audiences of Antioch and Constantinople would have ignored a
preacher whose exposition of doctrine was devoid of the graces
and embellishments of language which they prized so highly.
The heretics and infidels, who were either to be refuted or won
over to the truth, would have scorned and ridiculed him. He
would have done a poor service to the religion whose foremost
champion divine Providence had destined him to be.

Thus we see in Chrysostom’s oratory the profane and the
- sacred element blended in harmonious union. Despite his occa-
sional bitter attacks on pagan writers, Chrysostom stands forth
in theory and in practice as one of the foremost advocates of a
compromise between Hellenism and Christianity ; a compromise to
which Origen has given such admirable expression:> “Unde et
nos si forte aliquando invenimus aliquid sapienter a gentilibus
dictum, non continuo cum auctoris nomine spernere debemus et
dicta, nec pro eo, quod legem a deo datam tenemus, convenit nos
tumere superbia et spernere verba prudentium, sed sicut apostolus
dicit : “omnia probantes, quod bonum est tenentes’ (ad Thessal. I,
5, 21).” Chrysostom is indeed, as Villemain styles him, “par
excellence le Grec devenu chrétien,” he is in the words of the same
writer : “Le plus grand orateur de l’Eglise’primitive, le plus vivant
témoin de cette mémorable époque.” ®

5In Exod. hom. XI, 6, M. 12, 380.
6 De Véloquence chrétienne dans le quatriéme siécle, 351.

VITA

Thomas Edward Ameringer was born at Cincinnati, Ohic,
February 19, 1886. He received his elementary education in the
parish schools and his classical training in St. Francis Seraphic
College (now St. Francis Preparatory Seminary) of the same
city. He entered the Order of Friars Minor August 15, 1903.
After his religious profession he made his philosophical and theo-
logical studies in the monasteries of his province at St. Bernard,
Ohio, Louisville, Kentucky, and Oldenburg, Indiana. He was
raised to the priesthood June 22, 1911. From 1911-1918 he was
instructor in Latin and German at St. Francis Preparatory Semi-
nary. In January, 1919, he entered the Catholic University of
America, where, in June, 1920, he received the degree of M. A.
During his course at the University he attended the iectures of
Roy Joseph Deferrari, M. A., Ph.D., on Greek and Latin Litera-
ture, and of Rev. James Aloysius Geary, A. B., on Comparative
- Philology.

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