The more such a man knows the more harm he does. He is ashamed of no one, but the worse a man is, the more he flatters him. As the wise Solomon says, "The words of flatterers are soft; they smite upon the innermost chambers of the belly." He is as much a stranger, or rather an enemy, to self-control in the pleasures of the flesh, as the vulture is to scent; indeed, common report credits him with the unnatural wickedness of Sodom. Nature imposes upon our pleasures laws, and limits, and barriers; if what they say is true, he has trodden down the barrier, burst the limit, and made despite of the law, until he has produced the impression that he takes the chair and joins in the convivial gatherings of jugglers, and jockeys, and actors who represent incidents of ancient times with improper posturings and distortions of the leg. He had the hardihood to enter into contests of skill with jugglers, and have friendly intercourse with them; indeed, charges of so doing are entered in the records of several of the magistrates. He has not read the gnomic poet's words, "What thou ought-est not to do, do not even think." [Thanks to him the Mediator was slain with blows, and "he who found was exiled, and the juggler was put to flight."] They say that besides all this wickedness, he was guilty, after his ordination, of melting down (Church) plate, and lavishing the proceeds upon the magistrates, to produce the appearance of having the authority, not of a spiritual guide, but of a tyrant, over those who unhappily fell into his power. Now the death of Flavianus, Bishop of Antioch, coincided with the exile of John to Armenia. Porphyrius observed that the whole population, men and women alike, hung upon the neck of Constantius the priest, longing to have him (as bishop). He had been the servant of the Church from his earliest childhood; an ambidextrous man, to use a term from the book of Judges. What is generally considered the left hand, was in him stronger than the right of other men. He had first rendered service by writing letters, and been found blameless in regard to unrighteous gain and bribes; next he had been promoted to be reader and deacon, and without an effort had mastered the sexual delights which reign among men. As the author of Proverbs says, "The hand of the elect shall easily prevail." For possibly even the vilest of men can master pleasure; either through fear of consequences, or from shame, they may by great exertion restrain their bodily impulses. But it is only those that love God, who through love of the higher can rise superior to the lower—those whom the scripture calls "elect," in the text, "The hand of the elect shall easily prevail." If ever a man was gentle, it was he; or if ever a man was self-disciplined, penetrating of vision, sharp of comprehension, slow to punish, thoughtful, able to draw inferences by reflection, merciful, generous, just in judgment, long-suffering under insults, of ability to win men, oft continuing fasting until evening, so as to relieve the oppressed, of dignified appearance, stern of look, swift of step, celibate, as a bishop should be, ever wearing upon his face, even in sickness, the blossom of a smile. Such a man it was whose banishment Porphyrius set himself to bring about by means of bribery; and his method was this. He sent to the capital a message addressed to the officials in authority over the bishops, and procured his exile to Oasis by royal edict, as a seditious agitator. Constantius, however, at once heard of this, and with the help of his friends escaped to Cyprus. But Porphyrius himself had Cyriacus and Diophantus, priests, and other clergy, put under arrest; and then, keeping by his side in hiding the party of Acacius, Severianus, and Antiochus, he waited for the occasion when the whole city went abroad to the suburbs on one of the great pagan festivals, observed every four years in honour of the labours of Hercules, called Olympia, upon which flocks of women stream out with the crowds to Daphne, to see the sports. Bursting into the church, with the bishops I mentioned, and a few clergy, he was privately ordained, with closed doors, and in such haste, through fear of discovery, that they did not give themselves time to finish the prayer. Such is adultery, its offspring and its deeds ever bastard. Severianus and his friends took their bribe-money, and fled through mountains and pathless wastes; they escaped the terror of man, but were pierced through by the terror of God, which they had ignored. Now when the public theatre emptied, and the crowds re-entered the city, they were told what had been done to Porphyrius, and of the drama that Acacius had played. That evening the people forbore, like men flogged for adultery; but next day they rose, and poured through the streets in a great throng, with fire and faggots, determined to destroy Porphyrius with his house. Porphyrius, however, quite aware of the hatred in which he was held, deserted God, and fled to the officer in command of the camp, put money in his hands; and so diverting him from the war with the Isaurians, opened a campaign against the disciples of the Saviour. So the marauding Isaurian savages ravaged Rhosus and Seleucia, while Porphyrius and Valentinus the governor pillaged the Church of the orthodox with an armed force; trampling with their own feet upon the most awful sign of the Cross, which they (the orthodox) bore upon their shoulders to be their teacher, while they offered litanies upon the desolated land. A few days afterwards, Porphyrius sent to the capital in great haste, and urged upon the magistrates, who were such men as himself, that a certain creature of their own, old but active, and of an evil disposition and a twisted mind, should be appointed night-prefect, that he might so make himself master of the city by bringing false charges against the good citizens without fear of consequences. It was a fine imitation of the ways of Nero the fighter against God. It is not in him to win men by reason, but to vex them with unreason and cruelty; since he does not make it his aim to please God by leading to Him wandering souls, but to fill his serpent-like belly that crawls upon its chest. So a certain number of the laity, in fear of rough treatment, unwillingly assembled in the church, for the sake of appearances, but in reality, they vituperated the lives of the men, and awaited succour from God. At this point Theodorus said, in amazement—Deac. I note something contrary to natural order in these events, father. As a general rule, vainglorious persons are men-pleasers, and prove to be flatterers, and provide sumptuous tables, to get themselves liked and well spoken of. Often they will even let people spit upon them. So I cannot see how Porphyrius, or any one else, can have practised methods of threats, and punishment, and banishment. Bish. Yes, this is the extraordinary thing, Theodorus, that they reached such a pitch of wickedness, that so far from being anxious to please men, they did not even give a thought to the disgraceful character of their doings; for wickedness outdoes wickedness in wickedness. Wickedness casts the net of vainglory, when it hopes to catch simple folks by means of flattery; but when the quarry proves to be superior to flattery and the pleasures of the table, it brings up threats and torments, to terrify by cruelty and fear those whom it could not seduce by the pleasures of the table or by flattery. We have seen this in the case of the martyrs. Both methods were employed against them; the snare constructed of bribes and honours, which caught those who had their mouths open for worthless reputation, and also the threat of punishment, which provided the roasting iron, the rack, and the wild beasts, and every kind of horrible torture, and revealed the courageous and the lovers of God. But to return to my story. The leading clergy of Antioch met in secret, without even going near the walls of the church, and all the leading women, for whose sake more particularly the covetous prelates have gone out of their wits. I need not tell you what happened in Constantinople, or what numbers of people, as I told you before, left the church, and gathered in the open air, so that not even our rulers in ecclesiastical affairs had so many auditors—of their silence, for they never tried to speak. Deac. You have relieved the doubts which were in my mind, father, by your presentation of the facts to my eyes. The consistency of your narrative, and your ingenuous explanation, convinces me that these events really happened; for a fictitious narrative cannot be consistent with itself. If it will not burden you, please tell us about Olympias, if you know anything of her. Bish. Which Olympias? There are several ladies of that name. Deac. The deaconess of Constantinople, who was the wife of Nevridius the ex-prefect. Bish. I know her very well. Deac. What sort of a woman is she? Bish. Do not say woman, but manly creature; she is a man in everything but body. Deac. How so? Bish. In life, and in work, and in knowledge, and in her patience under afflictions. Deac. Why then did Theophilus revile her? Bish. Which Theophilus? Deac. The Bishop of Alexandria. Bish. You appear to me, Theodorus, to have buried in oblivion oceans of words. Deac. How so? Bish. The man who did not spare the truth, but trod it underfoot, as my narrative has established, and did not respect the Church universal, for whose sake the Only-begotten, as we proclaim, was done to death, that He might make it one, but disgraced it by his behaviour—has he it in him to spare a widow woman, who spends her life in prayer? Look all round, and see if he ever reviled a bad man; he always has hated devoutness. Why do you not gather from his very letters, how contrary they are one to another? He vituperated Epiphanius, the blessed Bishop of Constantia in Cyprus, who for thirty-six years ruled the Church there, as a heretic, or a paltry schismatic, in the time of Damas us or of the blessed Sericius; but afterwards, in his letter to Pope Innocent, in which he reviled the blessed John, we find him calling Epiphanius a most holy saint. How often do you suppose he kissed Olympias' knees, when he hoped to get money from her, the woman whom he now reviles; while she threw herself upon the ground in vexation, and shed tears at such things being done by a bishop. However, what were the grounds on which he reviled her? Deac. He said that she had received into her house the monks whom he had expelled. Bish. Well, is it right or fitting for a bishop to expel any disciple whatever; to say nothing of a monk? Deac. Yes, if they have offended him, or slandered him.