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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

By
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

Nihil obstat,
Leo Molengraft, O.F.M.
Censor deputatus
Imprimi permittitur,
Edmundus Klein, O.F.M.
Minister Prorincialis
Nihil obstat,
P. L. Biermann Censor deputatus
Impriiiia.tuT, Georgius Gulielmus Mundelein
Archiepiscopus Chicagiensis

TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE
Bibliography  7
Introduction  9
CHAPTER I. The New or Second Sophistic  11
II. Chrysostom's Attitude Toward Sophistic Rhetoric. . 20
III. Minor Figures of Speech  29
IV. Symmetry of the Period : The Gorgianic Figures. . 42
V. The Metaphor  56
VI. The Comparison  68
VII. The Ecphrasis  86
Conclusion  101

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 hi. Johannes Chrysostomus, Wurz
burg, 1889.
Albert, P,, St. Jean Chrysostome considere comme orateur populaire, Paris,
1858,
Bardenhewer, O., Geschichte der altchristlichen Literatur, Bd, III, Frei
burg i. Breisgau, 1912,
Baur, Dom, Chr,, St. Jean Chrysostome et ses oeuvres dans I'histoire lit
ter aire, Louvain- Paris, 1907,
Burgess, T,, Epideictic Literature, Dissert., Chicago, 1902.
Christ, W, v,, Gr'iechische Literaturgeschichte, Bd, VII, 2, 2, Miinchen, 1913,
Colombo, S,, // Dialogo IXepl 'lepoiaivris di S. Giovanni Crisostomo e la
Retorica, Didaskaleion I (1912), 173-200, Torino,
Guignet, M,, St. Gregoire de Na-zianze et la rhetorique, Paris, 191 1,
Hatch, E., The Influence of Greek ideas and usages upon the Christian
Church, London, 1891,
Hermogenes, nepi 'ISeHv, ed, Spengel, Rhetores Gracci, vol, II,
Kaibel, G,, Dionysius v. Hallcarnassus und die Sophistik, Hermes XX
(1885), 497-513-
Libanius, Opera, ed. Foerster, Lipsiae, 1903,
Lucian, 'P'n'ropav AiSdtr/caXos, ed, Jacobitz, Vol, III, Leipzig, 1913,
Meridier, L., L'Inftuence de la seconde sophistique sur I'oeuvre de Gregoire
de Nysse, These, Paris, 1906.
Naegele, A., Johannes Chrysostomos und sein Verhaltnis zum Hellenismus,
Byzant. Zeitschrift, XIII (1904), 73-113. Chrysostomos und Liba-nios,
S-pvaoaTo/iiKa 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 Vorldufer, 310 ff,, ed, 2, Leipzig, 1900,
Schmid, W., Der Atticismus in seinen Hauptvertretern, Stuttgart, 1887,
Bericht iiber die Literatur aus den Jahren 1894-1900 zur zweiten
Sophistik, in Bursian's Jahresberichte, XXIX (1901).^ Bericht iiber die
Literatur aus den Jahren 1901-1904 zur zweiten Sophistik, in Bursian's
Jahresberichte, XXXIV (1906).
Villemain, A, F,, Nouveaux melanges historiques et litteraires: De I'elo-
quence chretienne dans le quatrieme siecle, Paris, 1827,
Volkmann, R,, Die Rhetorik der Griechen und R'omer, Leipzig, 1885.
Weissenbach, J,, De Eloquentia Patrum, Libri XIII, Augustae Vindeli
corum, 1775,
Wendland, P,, Die hellenistisch-romische Kultur in ihren Beziehungen zu
Judenium und Christentum, Tiibingen, 1912.
Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, U, v.. Die Kultur der Gegenwart, Teil I, Abt.
VIII, 213 ff., Berlin-Leipzig, igo7. 7

INTRODUCTION
The purpose of this dissertation is to investigate the inilu-
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 45o 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. Meridier in his work : L'Inftu
ence dc la seconde sophistique sur I'oeuvre de Gregoire de Nysse,
as well as by M. Guignet : St. Gregoire de Nazianze et la Rheto
rique. We have followed substantially the plan of these scholars,
and have been guided by their methods in the handhng 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 Meridier^ and Guignet^ have pointed out
the futility of such a plan. Our endeavor has been rather to find
1 Avant-propos, VI.
2 Ch. Ill, 72.

10
in Chrysostom the characteristics of the second sophistic in gen
eral. These characteristics are very thoroughly treated by Meri
dier in the above-mentioned work.^
^The subject of this dissertation was suggested by a reading
of E. Norden's work, Die Antike Kunstprosa, II, 569 if., 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 iiberall 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.
^ Ch. Ill, La Seconde Sophistique,
* Die Beredsamkeit des hi. Johannes Chrysostomus, 99,
'"' Kultur der Gegenwart, Teil I, Abt, VIII, 214,
^ Geschichte der altkirchlichen Literatur, Bd, III, 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.d. 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 thari 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, viz., 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 famihes all passed through their
schools. They stood high in the public estimation. They were
^ For a fiill account of the Second Sophistic see E. Rohde, Die
griechische Sophistik der Kaiserzeit, in Der griechische Roman und seine
Vorldufer, 310 ff, ; also W. Schmid, Der Atticismus in seinen Hauptver
tretern; E. Norden, Die Antike Kunstprosa; E, Hatch, The Inftuence of
Greek ideas and usages upon the Christian Church, 86-115; L- Meridier,
La Seconde Sophistique, in L'Inftuence de la seconde sophistique sur I'oeuvre
de Gregoire de Nysse, '7-47.
'W. V. Christ, Griechische Literaturgeschichte, Band VII, 2, 2, 511.
2 Rohde, 350, 11

12
regarded as leaders and spokesmen of their respective commu
nities ; they discharged the highest municipal ofiices ; 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 hterary 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
"Rohde, 315 ff-
^ Rohde, 326 ff.
' The Teacher of Rhetoric, 18,

13
all, those little Attic words I told you about must blossom on the
surface of your speech — arra and Stjirovdev — 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 oificial, thronged to these performances
as to a dramatic spectacle. The audience was as a 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 indiiferent 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
^ Tr. by E. Hatch, 95,
« Rohde, 336 ff.
» E Hatch, 96.

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.^^ Hermogenes, defining false Setvoxjy?, informs us that it is
proper to the sophists {irepl Ihtitv, 395). Among the figures which
they employed to obtain this false Seivo'tjjs, he mentions the so-
called (TxrifMiTa KeKa\\onn(jp.€va {ib., 332 if.). These are the parison,
the epanaphora, the antistrophe, the KXipa^, 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 KOjUftara 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) : ToioiJToi .... TotaiJTat .... is repeated seven times.
In Himerius' Eel. II, 46, 6 : Iws . . . . 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.
11 On this subject cf. Meridier, 20-47.
12 All of these, except the parison, are treated in 1 chapter III, p, 29.

IS
KaTaX.£\vvTai /ne)/ at irept tovs Aoyous Siarpi/Sat,
KaraXeX-VVTai Se at irept ra ypap-fxara BiSacTKakiai ....
vocrovvToiv p.£V 17 XP'''''
OUK ipp(i)p,evo)v 8i ij <f)0)vrj,
ire-TrXavripevoiv Se 17 ¦yvoip.rj ....
Himerius, in Eel. II, 50, 11:
'A^Trea-rrjpev eTepOK t^s -^ep-ovia^, ovk avrelwe's'
¦7rape)(u>prj(Tapev roU Trarpiov ayrjpM.TO'i, ovk rjyavdKT^cras.
Themistius, Or. I, 11 d. :
aStK09 pev Tij'i atrovSrj^,
¦fjXiOio^ 8e Trj<i ¦yvaprj's,
avoriTO's Se Trj'i cATrtSos.
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:
(70</>os pev ¦qv per' oXi-yoiv,
TVpavvo^ Se /t£Ta iroAAcov.
18, 22: reO'rjvai. pev ws aptcrros,
eKTreaetv S' tus irovripoTaTov.
Libanius is prodigal in his use of the same figure, e. g., Or.
XVIII, 370, 308:
(i) piKpov pev Trj'i -yrfi pepo<i KaTe)(iiiv Sta roii Ta.<f>ov,
Tracrav Se tw daijpari rfjv OLKOvpevrjv,
ft) vevLK^qKois pd^ais pev tov; dX.Xo(j)vX.ov'i,
apa^el Se tov; 6po<f>vXovi.
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 :
" Schmid, I, 63.

16
Dion Chrysostom, Or. 75, 204:
6 ms TtavrjyvpeK avvdyoiv,
6 Tov^ 6eoiis Tipiov,
6 TYjv dpeTTjV av^wv.
Id.,0r.UI,S5, 15: fj (TTpaTiav lieTa^ev
7] XOipoiv rjpepaxTCv,
71 TroXiv SiKurev,
17 TTOTtt/ioiis e^ev^ev,
rj -yrjv 6SevTii]v hroirjaev.
Libanius, Or. XIX, 385, i :
Kat Aoyo) )(prjaopevrjV
Kal epyia Serjaopevrjv.
Ib.387,5-: TOTS'; Te TraiSeveadai fiovXopevov^
rovs re ¦iraiSeveiv Suva/ttevovs.
Aniong 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,
I ) Words having the same root :
a) With changes and additions of prefixes:
Dion Chrysostom, I, 228, 2 : di/TtVexi'ot Kat opoTexvoi ; Aristides,
VII, 75> 7^ • -"-poyovoiv Te koI CKyovcuv.
b) With changes of case, voice, mood, tense, etc. :
Lucian, Conv. 432 : Ttaiiov Kal iraiopevot; ; id., Bis. ace. 815 :
eXfMOepovs iXev6ep<ii<i (f>iXocro<f)elv.
2) Words having diiferent roots :
Polemo, Declam. B, 20, 15: a^pa .... airjpa . . . .; id., 19,
10 : 4>ovov Kal 4>6liov ; Dion Chrysostom, I, 189, 32 : Aot/ios « koL Ai/ios
(Thucydides, II, 54, 2) ; Aristides, III, 30, 33 : av^x^<" ¦
a,vy]<f>6io. Alliteration signifies the recurrence of the same initial letter
or letters in words generally succeeding immediately, e.g.:
Philostratus, Vit. Soph. 39> 20 : Siac^atvovrat Toii Aoyov Kat XapirpoT-TjTe'i
A^ouo-at; Achilles Tatius, VII, 11, y: o tw ATya-Twv Ad^os Aav^avwv.
In his treatise irepl tSeoJv (292, 19 if.) Hermogenes also remarks
that the immoderate use of tropes was one of the faults of the
Wd^Aot ao^uTTal (pseudo-sophists) . A careful reading of the
sophists will show that they all more or less merit this term of
'¦eproach. 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. ^* For instance, the hands of
Cynaegirus, which had been cut oflf 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, ¦zriz., 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
1* Schmid, I, 61.
15 Schmid, II, 263,
-^'Atticismus I, 169.
" Ib. 1, 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 aifirm 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 "CaUimachus
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-
'» Or. XVII, 218, 31.
" Ib. 221, 36.
22 irepl ISeHv, 396, 5.
" Declam. B, 19, 21.
2* Ib. A, 12, 9,
'5 Or. XIII, 203.
2" Or. II, 408, 24.

19
entiy 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 : ivavpAxnaev Ik y^s.'^
In his second declamation (i8, i) he describes the corpse of
Callimachus, which remained in a standing posture though cov
ered with wounds and pierced with countless arrows, as: veKpov
OavaTov KpeiTTova, and he reverts to the same subject later (32, 14)
saying: vvv irpwrov addvaTO'i St^B-q veKpov. Schmid '* has noted 44
instances of the oxymoron in Aristides and calls special attention
to one which, like Polemo's evavpAxqirev Ik yrji, is borrowed from
the Panegiricus of Isocrates, 89 : XIII, 259, 276 : vavpaxia<; Te d-wo
yrj'i . . . . ev TTj vrjaui yevopeva'i.
The ecphrctsis, 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 TO'TTos 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 manner 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.
^''Declam. A, 5, 23.
^^ Atticismus, 281 ff.
'^ 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., Ill, 468.
2 Johannes Chrysostomos und sein Verhdltnis zum Hellenismus.
Byzant. Zeitschrift XIII (1904), 73-113.
3 Norden, Die Antike Kunstprosa II, 529.
* lb. 517.
5 Guignet, St. Gregoire de Nazianze et la Rhetorique, 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-
noimce 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 abohsh 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 {i.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
»Fl. Jahrb. f. cl. Phil. Suppl. XIX (1893), 397-
'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, *:o 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
riches  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 {i. e., of hell) within us,
that no one can ever be ignorant of it. For poets, and philoso-
» 482 a-b, 502 e.
10 62, 150 ff.
11 Wom. XXI, I, on Ephes.; 62, 150,

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." "
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." i^
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." ^" 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 (sAti/'eis
Kat TaXaiirtupLai 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 from 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." "
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.
18 7"j7 I j2
^^Acts xvii, 28 and 23.
^^ Hom. Ill, I and 2 on Tit.; 62, 677 and 678.
1" Hom. agst. the Jews V, 3 ; 48, 886.
'^'' Hom. XV, 5 on Philipp.; 62, 296.

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 Pere, le plus eloquent
des Peres, 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 genie de la societe nouvelle, ente
sur I'ancien monde, il est par excellence le Gree devenu chretien." '^
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"
1' 62, 692-694.
1° To a Young Widow, 6 ; 48, 607.
'" Hom. I on Thess. II ; 62, 472.
'1 St. Jean Chrysostome et les moeurs de son temps, Paris (1891), 124,
" Villemain, De I'eloquence chretienne dans le quatrieme siecle, 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
ceming 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 mos^ accomplished sophist of his day, Libanius. Hp
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
{KiBap<oSu!v Kal KidapuTTiov) : 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
'^ On the Priesthood, IV, 6; 48, 669; Hom. XIII on Acts; 60, 107,
'* Hom. VI on I Cor. II, 2; 61, 48.
'5 Serm. Ill, 3 on Lazarus; 48, 994.
'" Hom. xxx on Acts XIII, 2; 60, 225.

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 mariners !" 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 Hsten 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 (cro</)toTats), 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
2' Cf. also 48, 104s, 21 ; 49, 38, 33 ; 54, 472, 58.
28 lb. 226, 36.
29 Ib. 228, 8.
^^ 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 i, — 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 Widoiv,^' 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 6prjV(oS6<i
(howler), X-qp6cro^o<i (babbler),'* and piapo-i (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 illiistrious
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. Ill, i6). . 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
"48, 601.
" 50, 560-566.
'* 50, 561.
'=/&. 562.
'"/6. 563.
" 48, 831 ; 50, 536.
'848,666, 17.
'»/&. 48, 674.
*" 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-
hstment 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.
*i On the Obscurity of the Prophecies, 56, 165.

CHAPTER HI
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 Ac^ts elpopevq, the paratactical, or disjointed style, in
which the short cola or Koppara of a period were detached, and
the Ae'^ts KaTea-Tpappevrj, 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
Fopyieta (rx^para. 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, kvkXos, KXlpa^, 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,
' Religionsgeschichtl. Uniersuchungen I, Bonn (1889), 253,
29

30
markable examples; 49, 41, 39: iroXipio^ Icttw oftdo-Kiyvos, exS^pos
oTj'votKos. Both adjectives and nouns form a pair of synonyms.
49' 33> 4*3 • '^'' ^'¦''¦"' '^'^'- ¦""' XaXr)(TW ; SaKpvuw 6 -rapMV Kaipoi, ovxt prjpaToiv
Oprjvoiv, ovxi Xoyoiv evxrj'i, ov STjprjyopia?. 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) 34i 59 • poXii i(7Xija) Sidpai CTTopa, Kal dvoliai X'^'-Xfj, koX Kivrjaai
yXioTTav, Kal prjpara TrpoeaOai.. The idea of speech is expressed four
times. 49> 34) 4° • Srjpoti evTaKTO'; OVTOI Kal rjpepo^, koX Kaddirep iinro';
XeiporjO-rji Kal TiOaacro?, del rats twv dpx6vT0>v eiKow x^p*'''!'- We have
here five variations of the same idea. 50, 461, 38: aTpaToireSa
eirayopevo^, dyyeAoiv Taypara, dpxayyeXwv crvppopia^, pap-rvpwv <j>paTpia'i,
SiKalwv xopoi's- A very striking instance is, 50, 580, 22, On St.
Pelagia: to, irap' eavTij^ travTa eireSeiKVUTO, tt/v irpodvpiav, to <l>p6vr]pa,
TO yevvalov, to jiovX^qO-qvai, to irpoeXiddai, to airevcraL, to eweix^rjvai. 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 kot' apo-tv Kat Oeaiv,
less properly called arsis, which presents the idea first negatively
and then positively, the positive statement being introduced by
aAAa. This figure is very common. Here is an example of four
fold arsis, 52, 396, 10 :
'AAA* ov SiKauTTipiov Katpos vvv, dXX' eXeov;-
OVK evOvvrj'i, dXXd (f>iXavdpwTria'i-
OVK e^eTaaew^, dXXd ovyxwprjueoit;-
OV ij/rj<j>ov Kal StKJ^s, dAAa oiKTpov Kal xaptTOS.
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 Setvori;?, and ranges it among
the figures that give beauty to style.* It should be used with cola,
rather than KoppaTa, otherwise the effect is one of yopyonys (nerv
ous energy). It is most emphatic when asyndetic, especially at the
* Spengel, Ttepl Ideuv, 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, irois .... 5 times, 49, 386, 9. Iloij .... 8
times in a series of short questions, e.g., ttov 6 irAoiiros; ttov to.
dpyvpwpaTa ; ttov  This Series is preceded by five short cola,
each beginning with ore .... ore ... . 52, 399, 12. Ib. 391,
30 : ttov .... 5 times. Me'xpt iroTe .... 7 times in short ques
tions, 52, 400, 60. Tt's . . . . 5 times with cola of moderate length,
50, 435, 13. Ov Swacrat . . . .; 6 times with short questions, 52,
410, 10, and oi Svvao-at elmt . . . . ; 7 times in as many questions
followed by five answers each headed by Tevov .... in a climax,
52, 410, 22. Mostly in KoppaTa, not interrogative : orav .... 4
times, followed by roVe .... also 4 times, 49, 398, 4. navraxovl
.... 9 times in an enumeration of nouns, 52, 409, 30. Mt;8cis
.... I3times withnouns, 49, 390, 2. Eto^A^cvets .... Kat ... .
4 times, followed by d'KrjXdev ets .... Kai .... 5 times, 52, 409,
38 — a very artificial instance. Tupavvos .... 5 times, heading
clauses of parallel structure, 50, 644, 26. A very remarkable
example is: tSSe .... 10 times, alternating with eKet .... also
10 times, e.g., oiSe yrjpw, eKel ov yqpw, &Se OvrfOKw, hcei .... The
oddest instance we have found occurs in: 52, 404, 23-46, where
Ata Tt eKXrjB-q ... is repeated 18 times in rhetorical questions,
each followed by an answer, thus : Ata rt eKXi)6r) 680s ; 'Im p,a6i;s, ort,
.... the four first answers headed by t'm pdOtj'i oti ; the other 14
by oTt 
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 : ^ijAevet 0eos, dpyiferat ©eds, p,eTavoet
Oeds, pio-el ®eds. 52, 398, 26 : . . . . v^pl^-g  vPplarj'i, ....
i/?pio-5i;s (Imperfect). 52,410,52: .... yd;u.oD 3 times. 52,402,
15: ... . KaAcirat repeated 15 times in short KoppaTa, with poly
syndeton, e. g., Kal TlaTTjp KaXeiTai, Kal dSds KaAetrat 
Symploke is epanaphora and antistrophe combined. Few in
stances of this artificial figure were found. The most striking
one is: 52, 403, 48: xotc .... edrt repeated 11 times, e.g., ¦rroTe
yvp4>r] ea^Ti, irOTe Ovydrqp ecrTi .... a twelfth claUSe SUms Up, ¦TrdvTa
eo-Tt. 5O) 436, 34 : arjpepov ev yf) x<ip") (^pepov ev ovpavw x«jtw. Cf .
52, 405, 35 ; 50) 435, 33-
The very artificial figure of kukAos 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
kw'kAos, which is also a twofold instance of the figure called
definitio: 50, 653, 8:
Xp-^paTa yap Ota toijto KaAetrat,
tva auTots ets Scov XP*"/**^")
ovx '*'"' KaTopvTTwpev
KTTjpaTa Sta tovto Aeyovrat,
iva 17/xets avra KTirjawpeOa,
Kal pr) avTwv yevwpeda KTTjpaTa.
The first kvkAos is not perfect, because xp^/«ira is not repeated
in the same form. Note the parallel structure of these two periods
forming a ¦wdpiaov. 5O) 433) 15: dTr^A^ei' 17 i^o-reia, dAAa peverio r/.
evXdpeia' pdXXov Se ovSe 17 vrjaTeia dw^Xde.
Another highly artificial figure is the so-called KXlpai, 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 : 'Aird
ydp ye'AwTos cvrpaireAta, d'TTO evTpo'TreAtas alaxpoXoyia, dwo atcrxpoAoytas
aiaxpa irpdypaTa, diro 'jrpaypdTwv alcrxpwv KoXdaea Kal Tipwpiai (three
fold). 52, 398, 45 • Kav ydp prj Trdvres dKOvauiui, ol -fjpLcreK djcovaovTar
Kav pr] ol fjplcrei'i aKOvawcri, to TpiTOv pepo'i- Kav p-q to TpiTOv fiepos, to
TeTapTOV Kav pr/ to TerapTOV, Kav SeKa- Kav pr) SeKa Kav -irevTe- Kav prj
•irevTe, Kav cZs" Kav p^ ets, eyw rdv piaOov dTrrjpTLcrpevov exw (sixfold).
Cf. 50, 446, 51 ; 52, 410, 10 lib. 22.
Hyperbaton is the transposition of words from their gram
matical order. Three chief varieties occur in Chrysostom:
i) 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 : T d v ovi' Kd^' eKdaTtjv, d»s ctiretv, Wep
Tfciv Tqv oiKovpevTjv oIkovvtwv dXyovvTa. 5O) 47^) 53 • r d s ev roo-ovTOts
eVecrt ToiJ HavAov /x d tr t t y a s,
2) The noun is separated from its possessive or explanatory
modifier, e.g., 50, 593, Z^- '¦"" r'^s dvacTdo'eos tov (rravpoflevTOs
Ji-piaToH 8td Ttiiv epywv Trapd<TxwvTai tt/v dTrdSet^tv.
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 : T^s ^vo-tas dTToAaiJo-at TavT7;s. Often this is done to emphasize a
word placed alone at the beginning, or at the end of the clause,
48, 623, 29 : Hv Se -qplv .... Kat air ovSy) irept tovs Adyovs, ovs
eirovovpeBa, pia. 5®, 474, 19- Sai/'tAijs 17 roii nvevp,aros i^exyOrj ets
avTov S taped. Frequently the adjective and noun are thus sep
arated to set oif the consonance of their endings, producing an
effect similar to the homoioteleuton, e. g., 59, 25, 25 : Kat ToaovTwv

33
yepovaa diropp^Twv, Kat TOo-avra Kopii,ov(ja dyaBd. 49, 39^, 9 '• 'HI
TpaTre^j] irpoo'tw TaVTjj. 49, 397, 4^ '¦ °^ T d(f> w peXXovTei iraplcrTacrBai
Kevw. 52, 393, 7^ • ''''^'' dvBpwTTivwv evvowpeBa TtpaypdTwv.
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, 3^ • iroAActKts d ¦jrevq<; rdv ¦TrAovcrtov Trptorevci
ev T^ cvcepeia. ^O, 439) 9 • "^^''"''1 dvaarao'ts diraXXayrj dpapTqpaTwv. ^O,
442, 1 1 : TWV dyaBtav d-TroAawo/iev Toi;' d'KOKei.pevwv TOts dyaTrioaiv avrov.
50, 637) 32 • TTOiijawpev TOVS TTatSas TrarpaXoia'; 8td T^s TrpoSocrtas. 49,
395, ^7 ¦ dpeiXiKTO'i Kal dvevSoTO'i Kal avToaSdpa';. ^O, 437 > 5^ '•
iravTaxoBev Trepippavrt^erat, Kat TroAAd TTpOdTpi^eTai.
b) Assonance, 52, 401, 59- dXXov dx^/xart <j>ep6pevov, a-qpiKOV
irepijSepX'qpevov IpdTLOV, Kopv<j>ovpevov. 49, 3^3) '¦^ • ^'¦^ tovtov o'bv
SaKpvuov TTLKpov Kol (TTeva$ov pdXXov. 49, 3^) 22 : TuJv ¦qpeTepwv 6<j>BaXpwv
TW TeBoXwcrBai t^s dBvpla'i.
c) Alliteration and assonance combined, 50, 445, 23 : eTepds rts
eA^uiv, Kat pecrov eavrdv ep/3aXwv eKarepwv Avet tt^v exBpav. Ib. 38 : iraJs
ov TTpOTepov dweoTq ¦jrdvTa irotoiv Kat mterx'uv Kat irpay/xaTevdp.evos, ews tov
TToXepiov. 50, 476) 8 : ovSev ovSeiroTe xpds ovSev dvBponnvov TrdSos 'eiraBev
(with paronomasia). 50, 573, 18: cr<l>aTTopevwv, Kaiopevwv,
KprjpvL^opevwv, KaTairovTi^opevwv. ^O, 6o2, 1 3 : Trdvra rd p,eAAovTa
irpoopiov mppwBev, irpoalovTa tov TroXepov direKpoveTO. y>, 636, 3 •
prjTpO'i TrpoaeSpia, Kal Trarpds irpdvota, Kat ttoAA^ Trapa t<3v yovewv
eTTipeXeia yt'verat. 5'-') 636, 55 • e^aiipvqi eTTiTaypaTa TTOvqpd ¦jravraxov
KOTeire/XTrero iroAA^s. 5*-*, ^79, 2 : ttoikiXov TrpoadrjK'qv Kal TrXeovacrpov
¦TrAeiovos Sd^s irapecTKevaae. ^O, d^i? , 18: Tore Toiwv TaVTa eTrtrdTTOvres.
50, 53*-') 26 : dTTOOTjA^crat toi, Kocrpjbv, Kal KaTaXvaai to Krjpvypa. Ib. 37 •
T^s Tiuv TrpaypaTwv Tretpas irdvrwv d^t07rt(7T0Tepav Tavrrjv elvai TreTrtcrTevKa
(with paronomasia). 5*^) 636, 15 '¦ pdpTvpe^ a-Srat peTa^v So8dp,(ov Kat
TravTwv Ttov TToXepiwv ovaai, Kal TToXiopKOvpevai TtavTaxoBev, ovSev e-traaxov
Seivov. 5<5> 686, 36 : ov ydp yo-qTeia eytvero rd yivopeva.
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 eifective when words
most similar in sound are most dissimilar in sense. The various
forms of paronomasia may be grouped under two heads, i ) Words
having the same root :
a) With changes and additions of prefixes, 49, 36, 52: ^
TToAvTrats aTrats .... yeyevqTai. 49, 4 ^ , 2 : evreAetav . .
¦TroAvreAetov. 49, 4^, 25 : to p.eit,ov t^s xP^'*^^ .... dxpq(rTov. 49:
45> 3*-' • a.TTOVOV .... ETTtVovov. 49) 45, 43 • dppwcTTqpAiTi . .
eijptoo-ra. 5*-', 447, ^ • o^'''^ KaTa^rjvai ¦qv KaTWTepov, o^ Kare^-q 6 dvBpWTTOs,
ovTe dvajirjvai dvwTepov, ov dvrjyayev avTOV TrdXiv (antithetical parison)
51, 45, ^7' ^yos ydp ecTTt, Kat iravdytos Kai dylwv dyttoTepos. ^2, 39^i
24: aTrdvBpwTTOv .... (piXdvBpwTTOV. ^2, 4^3' 5- ''"¦A'^ . .
(j>iXoKaXiav .... dpop^o^ .... evpop<f>ov. 52, 4^9) ^^ • do'ejSeias
.... evarePeias. ^2, 394) 22 : KaBapov .... aKdBapTOs. ^2, 4^4:
17 : ovTos Too-oiJTos Kat TiyAtKovTos (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 ¦ Mevc cts 'EKKAiyCTtav, Kot ov TrpoSiSoaai dird t^s 'EKKAT/o'tas,
'Edv Se ^vygs ctTrd 'EKKAi/crtas, ovk ama ^ 'EKKAi;trta. 5*^, ^37' 3^ '¦ '''V
(j>ov€vovTi 7rapa8ovs rdv <f>ovevea'6ai peXXovTa, avrds rdv <J36vov elpydaaTO.
50, 70 1 , 15- SmKeaBai Kal p-q SiwKeiv, eXavveuBai, koI pr] eXavveiv . .
ov (TTavptaa-at;, dAAd trravptD^ets, ov paTrttras, dAAd paTTurQeU. y>, 047:
24 : iroAAot •TroAAaKts .... iroAAots. 5^) 579, 34 • oiSets ovSeTrOTe
.... ov8ev. 5*3, 581, 41 ¦ ovSepiav ovSapoBev. 52, 408, 12: ovtos ovx
OVTWS. 2) Words of diiferent 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 : iraiSoKTovovs
dvTt TraTepwv .... dirOKaAwv. 5^, 267, 43 • ^'^ pucpav ¦qSovrjv SfqveKrj
T-qv oSiJvqv vrropeveTe. 49, 3^3, 28 : eis SeiAtav evdyet tovs paB-qTo.^ koI
evaywvlovi •jrotet. 49, 3^5, 57 • KaBapdv exeiv KaTqyopias rr/v yAwo-o-av.
52, 392, 61 : dvaAtoo'ao'ai .... d'TroAavaatra. 52, 392, 48 : d(r<^Aetav
eavTois 8td T^s (riji dywvias. ^2, 4*30, 4^ ¦ eyKwpia .... eyKXijpaTa.
52, 4*35, 36 ¦ '''*'¦ ¦'¦V -i^opvqv TrapBevov epydarjTai. ^2, 402, 5I • rd prjpara
. ... TO. vorjpaTa. 52, 4*31, 43: ov Aeyw irpd(T0)7ra (perSOns) dAAd
TTpdypaTa. ^2, 4*31) 49: eyKaAoiJVTa .... eiraivovvTa. ^2, 397, 60 :
KAv8&)vi^eTat dAA' ov KaTairovTt'f erat. 52) 397, 27 • ov tottov povov, dAAd
Kat TpoTTOv. 52) 393, 16: evreAeias .... dXrjBeia^. 52, 394, 32: pr]
Trotetre TotavTa, iva pr] Trd6r]Te rotavra. Ib. 18 : apTraya aTTTecrflat. 5*3,
439, 1 1 • ^SwKe TTjV pei^ova, TrpoaSoKa Kal Tr]V eXarrova. 49, 38, 4 : to
^ Cf. J. C. Robertson, The Gorgianic Figures in early Greek Prose, 22,
BaltiTOore, 1891.

35
dpdprrjpa yeyovev oXiywv, kcli to eyKXrjpa yii'erat KOtvov. 49) 4*3) 24 ¦
Hois 8e cx« TTJV KT^ertv, <ov ttjv xp^"'"' •>"* *x*' (said of a miser). 49,
50, 51 ¦ oiKiav .... ovcriov. 49) 4^> 44 • dKarayaivto'TOV Karaytuytov.
52, 4''7, 4- ireptKoirre to iripiTTOv. ^1, 270, 58' /-'¦¦>;8ev rrepaiTepw
¦n-epiepyd^ov. ^l, 46, 29: ov Tpv<^Tjv, dAAd rpoiprjv. ^O, 644, 47- ''''''»
evairaT^TOvs re Kai evirro^TOVs yvvatKas. 5*3, 6o2, 14: rrpoopwv mppwBev.
50, 615, 28: TpavoTepw (clearer) <f>B6yyw TOV Tvpawov rjAeyxev. 5*3)
53 1) 43- KelvTai aKivTjTa. ^O, 682, 43 ^ • no'"* ydp Koivwvia peBj] koI
pdyrj ; yo(7Tptfecr6at Kat dvSpifeo'Sat ; . . . . OTrAtfov, p,7j KaAAtoirtfov
.... dvSpt'fov, pr] (Lpatfov. This is the most striking example we
have found. 50, 671, 27: 'EKetvov (the prophet Daniel) pev eis
AciKKOv dircKActCTav, tovtov (St. Julian) 8e ets crdKKov eveySoAov. 4">
634, I : Kav At;ads y Kav Aotp,ds (a favorite pun of the sophists). 55,
166, 41 • -Xf'owv tpaTitov erriKeipevwv Kal viroKCtp,evo)v, warrep ev Kapivw
KeiToi KOLoptvos (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 'IcpctTroAts, and thence they verily ascended eis ttjv tepdv
irdAtv {i.e., heaven)." In his sermon on St. Drosis (Apocrt's) who
was tortured by fire, 50, 688, 49 : "She looked upon the fire not as
fire, but as dew (Spdo-os)." A pun on the double signification of a
word occurs 50, 709, i. Chrysostom, a few lines above, has rep
resented the martyrs on a red-hot gridiron {KXlpai, 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 {KXlpui)
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 eptj/vxoi Td<^oi (living graves) to designate vul
tures, which the author of -Trept vi/'ovs 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. Ill, 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 rdc^os ep\j/vxo<; koI ¦irvevpaTiKO'i 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, rd^ovs <f>wvT]v dt^tc'vras, Td</)ovs
Trpds rdv a-VTOV ^^Aov -TrapaaKeva^opevovi." This is a hopeless jumble
of metaphors. Speaking of starving mothers who ate their oif-
spring,8 he says, 5*3, 523, 33 • ™v yewqdevrwv iraiSlwv -q TeKOvaa yaoTr]p
eyevero rdc^os. Again, 50, 435, 20 : "The drunkard, having buried
his soul in his body as in a coffin (ev pv^qpan), veKpov ¦7tepi<f>epei TO
awpa." 50, 421, 52: St. Paul and his disciples, who were daily in
danger of death, are called epxjwxoi veKpoL^
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 : ev kopraU dveopToi ela-iv. ^o, 688, 5 •
dVav yvvaiKes dvSpt'^iovTat, i. e., show a manly courage in suifering
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, Kat to rnip
ewypaivovres, Kat rd HSwp epTriprrXwvTe'; irvpds." Of the good example
of the martyrs he says, 50, 648, 23 : EtSere wcos SwaTWTepa koI
(TiywvTwv rj (j>wvq roov fmprupwv ; Christ descended into limbo (oStjs),
Kat rdv aSqv erroirjaev ovpavov, which is explained : "For where Christ
is, there is heaven," 49, 395, 40.
" Cf. Norden, Die Antike Kunstprosa I, 385.
'37, 1587. Cf. J. B. Lightfoot, The Apostolic Fathers, Part II, ed. 2,
vol. II (London 1889), 208, 2.
8 Jerem. Lament. IV, 10.
» Cf. also 49, 22, 42.

Z7
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. Raul had the effect of converting him
and giving spiritual vision to the world, 50, 487, 14: tj rrqpwai'i eKei-
vov ^wTurpJb'i yeyove r^s otKov/ie'vrjs, and, with double antithesis : 'ETreiSTj
ydp e/SAeire KaKuis, eTrr/pwo'ev avTov KaXm 6 0eds, omTe dvapXeipai -xprjaipwi.
Commenting on I Cor. XV, 31, "I die daily," Chrysostom asks, 50,
001, 26: irois Svvardv evt awpaTi BvqTW pvpLov; Se^aaBai Oavdrov;; and
explains that the Apostle means his constant readiness to die for
the faith. With reference to Matth. XI, 12: "The kingdom of
heaven suflfereth violence," Chrysostom makes Christ say, 52, 401,
52 : 'E/ie dprraoov, X^P"* "¦<" ^X** '''^^ aprrayrj';, 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: drro BavdTov {i.e., of Christ)
yeyovapev dBdvaTOi.
Sometimes the two terms, which in their ordinary signification
are contradictory, represent two figures of speech not incompat
ible, e.g., 52, 395, 29: 17 -Trerpa {i.e., the hearts of the faithful)
yc'yove ySaSvyetos (spiritually productive). 52, 399, 8: rd hepwv
vavdyia vplv Xipeva KaracrKcvd^wv, i. 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 Kai dyAtoo'crov Wep Xpto-ToiJ prjTopevovtjav. He
then relates how the martyr miraculously retained his speech
after his tongue had been cut out, and exclaims : Beapa Kaivov koI
¦jrapdSo^ov (Chrysostom's favorite introduction to a paradox)
o-dpKtvos aapKivoK dadpKws (jjBeyyopevo';. This oxymoron is due to the
figurative use of dudpKws for dyAwo-o-ws.
In the discourse On St. Drosis, Martyr, we find a series of
three oxymora, 5*3, 688, 43 • "¦^''"f) pavelaa paviav .... TrdarjS
aw<j>pocruvq^ (repvoTepav : Chrysostom explains the meaning of p.avta
by stating that the martyr was ravished with longing for Christ,
so that, ov8cv tUv opwpevwv ewpa, and she considered the fire ovxi ¦nvp,
dAAd 8pdo-ov. 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 :
pr]Trjp \vaaaa irapBeviav eis ye'vectv rrapBevwv.

38
The Sacraments, with their spiritual efficacy, lend themselves to
paradoxical treatment: Commenting on Ephes. V, i8: "And be
not drunk with wine, wherein is luxury : but be ye filled with the
holy Spirit," Chrysostom says : 50, 435, 53, Avttj 17 KaA^ peBr]-
Kdpwo-ov crov ttjv i/'vxtjv tw TlvevpuiTi, and then he refers to the chalice
of the Blood of Christ : "Eo-Ttv i7jittv -n-OT^ptov peBr]^ KaAdv ....
aw(j>pO(TVvr]V rroiovv, ov rrapdXva-iv. Applying Matth. IV, 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 {eKJidXXovaiv) , but we throw them into the water
{eve/3dXXopev) , 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
aHviypa 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 !
v/hat 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, d too-ovtos Kai njAtKovTos
erreBvprjae irdpvrjs. HdpvTjs erreBvpei 6 ©eds ; Nai, irdpvTjs. 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 hi?
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" (so

40
621, 4o). 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
1" On Gregory Nazianzen's even more extreme treatment of the same
subj«" t 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 :
orrov papTVpwv pvr]pr],
eKet Kat 'EAAtjvcov aitrxvvrj.
With parallelism of ideas, 50, 575, 10 :
aTroaTrjvai ph> Trj'i euffCySctas,
avTopoX-qaai Se irpos ttjv dtrepeuiv.
With paronomasia and homoioteleuton, 50, 616, 57:
ov TOCrOVTOV Tfti Kr]pVKl <j>B6vwv,
oaov Tip KrjpvTTopevw ^aaKaivwv.
With asyndeton, homoioteleuton at the beginning, and pare
chesis, 50, 531, 19: dvdpprj^ov Tas BijKa's,
dvoppv^ov TO, OCTTd,
peTacTTqtTOv tovs veKpov^.
Observe the fourfold hyperbaton, and at the end of the Kdp,,aaTa
four synonyms, three of which are alHterative, 50, 483, 28:
-fj wpds erriBvpiav p^XV>
6 Trepi TTJV yaarepa ¦KoXtpo's,
¦q rrpo^ Tqv <j>iXapyvpiav rrapaTo^K,
¦q TTpoi TOV Bvpx>v irdAij.
42

43
The repetition of WvTa at the head of the pairs of synonyms
gives to this remarkable enumeration the character of a parison,
52, 415, 27: ndvTO dopv^wv yepei Kal rapax^s,
TravTtt CTKOireAot Kai Kprjpvol,
TTavTa v<^aAot Kai CTTriAdSes,
rrai'Ta <^o/3ot Kai KtvSwot Kal vtt6\j/uii Kal Tpopoi Kal dywviai.
With contrast of ideas and homoioteleuton, 50, 476, 39 :
Toij ju,ev -q ouda irdvTt eXBovTi dvewKTO,
TOV Se rj i/'vx'J ¦Jrdo'jj Ty o'ucovpevr] iprXwro.
In the following description of Lazarus coming out of the
tomb, note the polysyndeton and homoioteleuton, 50, 643, 54 :
Kat 6 8taAeAv/*evos wpBovTO,
Kai o (TecnrfiTW'; rjnBdveTO-
6 veKpos VTT^KOvev,
Kai d Seapwrqi eTpexev,
Kal b Bprjvovpevo'i eWtpra.
With epanaphora and homoioteleuton, 52, 399, 49 :
d PovXopevoi drroTepverw,
6 /JovXdpevo'i XiBa^eTw,
6 fSovXopevos pitreiTw.
With paronomasia, 50, 640, 45 :
SvvavTat ydp Kai B-qKai papTVpwv ttoAAtjv e'xetv Svva^tv,
SxTTTep OVV Kal TO. oaTa twv paprvpwv ttoAAtjv exet ttjv tcrxw.
Three words are repeated in the second colon, and a synonym
is used for Svvapiv 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 :
'Edv pr] Treipaapos, ovSe crrec^avos,
edv pr] TTaXaiapaTa, ovSe fipa/3eia,
eav pr] (TKdppaTa, ov8e npxu,
edv p-q BXiij/K, ovSe dvecrts,
cdv pr] xetp.ci)V, ovSe Bepos.
A very artificial period, with double epanaphora and climax,
52, 410, 10: On the various ways of life leading to salvation:
Ov Svvaaai 8td Trap^evtas eio'cAfletv ; Eto-eA^e 8td povoyapia'i.
Ov Svvacrai 8td povoyapiai ; Kav 8td Sevrtpoyapiai.
Ov Svvacrat Std aw<j>poavvr]i eiueXBeiv ; EtcreA^e 8td iXerjpoavvqi.
Ov Svvaa-ai Std eXeqpoavvr]<i ; Eto-eA^e Std i^tTTCias.
Ov Svvacrai tovttjv ; Aevpo ckcivjjv.
Ov Svvao-oi eKCtvijv ; Aevpo Tavrijv.

44
A powerful series of rhetorical questions, the effect of which
is heightened by double epanaphora with asyndeton, 56, 267, 6 :
Ovk evTeiBev olkwv dvaTporrai ',
OVK evrevBev crwippocrvvrji aTTwXeia ;
OVK evTeHBev ya;u,(ov Statpccrcis ;
OVK evTeHBev TToXepoi Kai paxai ',
OVK evTevBev drjSiai Adyov ovk exovaai ;
With epanaphora and homoioteleuton in the two leading cola,
50, 621, I : Ovx ^'^po- TTapiecTTWTa'i Srjpiovi,
dXX' ewpa KVKAovvTas dyycAovs,
eiTeXdBeTO t<3v oiStvoiv,
KaTe(f>p6vrj<7e t^s <f)-vaews,
VTTepeiSe Trj'i -qXiKia'i ktX.
Prolonged symmetry, with perfect parallelism of cola, and
polysyndeton, 50, 663, 26 :
Kal(n)Te olKerrjV SearroTOV </>dy8os KaTeaxev,
ovTe Trevqra f] Trj'i TTTWxeia'i dvdyKr],
ovTC yrjpaiov T^s -^AtKtas 17 dcr^eveta,
ovTe yvvaiKa to t^s <j>va-ews drraXov,
ovTe ttXovo^iov t^s ircptovtrtas d rvi^os,
ov rdv dpxovTa Trj'i c^ovcrtas 17 dTrdvota.
Note also, 52, 443, 52, a parison consisting of 11 short Koppara,
with chiasmus in the two first members :
tva fiABrjTe tov ttoBov Trjs 'EKKATjCTtas,
pdBrjTe TWV epwv reKvwv ttjv cvycvciav,
TWV aTpanwTwv ttjv tcrxvv 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 : -q rreTpa yc'yove ^aBvyeiO'S, Kal XiTTapa
-q xft>p<». 49, 395, 33 • -^^ "'" '"'' Xe^opevov 'ev, dAAd SittAovv to voovp.evov.
Note how the position of the adjective and its noun is shifted
in the following example : 52, 407, 27 : Ei p.e'yos d ^Tjo-avpds, Std ti rd
CTKCVOS dcr^evcs ; 'AAAd pr] Std tovto dcr^cvcs to crKciios, cttciS^ /icyas d
^Tjtravpds. Note the position of the adverbs in 52, 403, 19: ^-Prjpard eo-rtv
evravBa, eKei Sk rrpaypaTwv ^vo^ts.

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. 'E^cySaAcs TOV TTOipeva,
B. A. Tt t^v dyeATjv SiccrTracras ;
A. B. 'Airco-TTjo'as rdv KvpepvrjTqv,
B. A. Tt TOVS otaKos KaTCKAacras ;
B. A. Tdv dp,7rcAovpydv c^c/SaAes,
B.A. Tt rds dp.irc Aovs dvc'o-Trao'as ;
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 KoppaTa, a fine illustration of the choppy style of
the Asiatic school ; 50, 485, 24, on St. Paul :
Kat yap warrTep rqv o'lKOvpevqv drTaaav yewrjaai,
ovTtos eBopv/3eiTo, ovtws eTpexev,
ovTw TravTas ccrirovSa^ev eio'ayayetv eis ttjv jSacrtActav,
BepaTTevwv, TrapaKoAwv, VTricrxvov/^evos, cvxdftevos, tKCTCvoJV,
TOVS Saipova'i <j>oPwv, tovs Sia<j>BeipovTa'i iXavvwv,
Std Trapovcrtas, Std ypappdrwv, Std prjpdrwv,
Std TTpaypaTwv, Std piaB-qTwv,
Sl eavTOv TOVS TriTTTOVTa<; dvopBiov, tovs eorTWTas crTrjp'it,wv,
Sieryeipwv tovs x«A*ii Kct/xevovs,
^cpaircvftjv tovs avvTerpippevov;,
dXei<J3wv TOVS paBvpovvTai,
<j>oPepov ep/Sodv em rots cxBpoi-i,
Spipv /8Ac7r<i)v eiri rots 7roAep.totS'
KaBdrTep Tts (TTpaTqybi y dpurro-i tarpds,
avTos aKevo<j>opOi, avTos VTraamaTrji, avrds VTrcpatrirtcrT^s, avrds
TrapacTTaTTjs,
avTOs TrdvTa yivopevoi tw aTpaTOTTeSw.
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:
Atd TOVTO evxapKJTw tw @ew peB' vpiov,
OTI OVK yXey^ev vpiov Trjv <l>iXoao^iav rj avp<\>opa,
ovSe e^eXvcrev vpiav tov tovov b (^oySos,
ovSc ccTjSeo-ev vp,<3v ttjv rrpoBvpiav -q SAii/'ts,
ovSe epdpavev vpwv tov ^rjXov b KtvSvvos,
ovSc ev'iKTjae tov ircpi ©cdv ttoBoi b twv dvBpwrrwv ^ojSos,
ovSc KaTe^aXev vpwv ttjv crirovSTjv 17 tov Kaipoi SvuKoXia.
Kai ov puovov ov KOTCySaAcv, dAAd Kat hreppwaev,
ov pAvov OVK e^iXvaev, dAAd Kai eircretvcv,
ov povov OVK ecTySccrev, dAAd Kat dv-qspe rrXeov.
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 — 711, 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, 31 — 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 :
'Ekci p.cv ydp ecrrtv dv^Tj papaivopeva,
evravBa Se vorjpaTa dKpa^ovra'
eKel fec^vpos Trvewv,
evTavBa Se Hvev/wiTos avpa-
eKel oKovBai Teixit,ovaai,
evTavBa Se Trpovota 0eoi5 17 d(T^Xxt,opevrj'
CKCt TCTTiyCS dSovTcs,
evTavBa Se TTpo^rJTai KcAaSovvTcs-
eKel Tepi/fts d^rro t^s oi/'ecos,
cvTavfla 8c w<f>eXeia aTTO r^s dvayvwcrccos' ktA.
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 pev T<3v yivopevwv -rrjv ^vcriv tSjjs,
/xaxv Kat TToXepos Kal irapdro^ts rd yivopeva-
&v Se TTJV yvwprjv Tuiv ytvop,c'v<uv c^crdcrjjs,
Xopoi Kal BaXiai Kal iravijyvpcts Kat peyicTTq -qSovi] rd TcAovjtieva.

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. 2
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 :
Ocnrcp ydp tov wjjiov Kal drrdvBpwTTOv aTToaTpe^erai Kai piaei,
ovTtu TOV eXeijpova Kal <j>iXdvB pwrrov irpocrtcTat Kat <f>iXei.
A series of four antitheses with chiasmus, 52, 417, 10:
ev Tats evTjfiepiais, cAiri^e rds SvoTjjACptas"
ev Trj yaXrjVT] x^P'-'^^a TTpoaSoKa-
ev Trj vyeia vocrov dvdpeve-
ev TOI ttXo-vtw TTCViav Kal TTTwxeiav eXrTL^e.
The artistic effect is highest when there is parallelism of
structure in complex cola, the respective parts of which are anti
thetical, ^. gf., 50, 596, 15:
OoTC aTTaai xprje^i^pos 0 Brjuavpb';,
eiTiTrjSeiov to Karaytoytov,
TOts pev erTTaiKoaiv, iva dTraXXayHai twv TreipaapHiv,
TOts Se evqpepovaiv, iva ^e^aia avTOts P'Ctvrj ra KaXd-
Tot'i pev ev dppwcTTia, iva Trpos vytetav eTraveXBwai,
ToU Se vyiaivovcriv, iva pr] irpos appwuTiav KaTarreawaiv.
Another finely balanced period occurs in 50, 692, 43 :
ClcTTTtp ydp Kal CTrt roiv cvcpycTOV;aevo)V,
Kat oi prjSev iraSdvrcs crvv^Sovrat rots TraBovai,
Kal TOV ev TTOirjcravTa araivovoiv
ovrtus eiri Ttov eTrqpea^opevwv
Kcu oi prjSev -qSiKrjpevoi truvaXyoxicri TOts KaKta'; TreTTOvBoai,
KOI rdv TTOirjaavTa KaKi^ovtri.
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 :
Td<j}Oi eKel Kal rdc^os evTaHBa-
dXX' b pev TOV Aa^dpov Tatfyo'; dvotyop,evos
TTJV TOV XpiCTTOV Svvapiv iptjiavi^ei,
b Se TtHv ywatKftiv Tci^os KCKActcr/tevos Kat evepytov
Trjv Toi) SwT^pos X^P'" KrjpvTTer
eKel vCKpds mep tj>vuiv tov Tatpov eKTpexwv,
evTavBa yvvatKCS Trapd <^vcrtv rots rdi^ots TTpouTpexovcriv
eKel Oeia<; Svvdpewi aqpelov
evTavBa irpoatpccrcajs yevvaias TeKprjpiov
(Here two cola of the text are mutilated)
CKCt peTa TOV Bdvarov dvapiwcn<;, Kai hiTaiBa £,wrj-
eKel BdvaTO'i yStatws AjjcrrcveTat,
evrav^a Sdvaros TrpoS^Aws Trarctrat.
Note the double epanaphora, double polyptoton, paronomasia,
homoioteleuton, and chiasmus in the above.
Contrast between truth and error, 50, 496, 5 :
TotovTOv ydp -fj TTXdvrj, Kal p,TjSc)/os evoxAovvros, KaTappei,
TOiovTov -q dXrjBeia, koI ttoAAwv iroAe/xovvTtov, Steyetpcrat.
On the vicissitudes of life, 50, 599, 4 :
d pev VTTO T^s eirqpepiai Trpoi to vipos enypBrj,
b Se VTTO SvCTirpaytas eis ttoAv KaTrjvexBrj jSdBoi.
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 :
Aid tovto tovs pev ttovovi avveKXrjpwae tw ppaxei Kai irpocrKatpo) aiwvt.
roijs Sc crrcc^dvovs eTapievtraTO Tti dyrjpto Kal dBavdTip.
The purpose for which God grants riches is expressed in this
antithetical arsis, 49, 43, 44 :
ovx '""• KaraKAeto'Tjs eiri oXeBpiit Toi trw,
dXX' iva CKxejJs errl trwTqpia Trj trfj.
The fickleness of wealth, 49, 41, 37:
arrjpepov peTO. crov,
Kat aijptov Kara trov.

49
The tree of Paradise and the tree of the Cross, 49, 396, 36 :
Hept TO Se'vSpov KaTqywviaaTO tov 'ASdp b 8td/8oAos"
Trept rov (TTavpov KaTerrdXaicre tov Sid/3oXov b Xptcrrds-
Kat ^vAov TO p,ev 'IrrepTrev eis oStjv,
TO Se Kai TOVS d7reA6()VTas eKelBev dveKaXelro.
ndAtv ^ijXov TO pev tov aixpdXwTov yvpvbv eKpvipe,
TO Se TOV viKerqv yvpvov e<j}' vtj/rjXov Trdcrtv eSeiKW.
The consequences of the death of Adam contrasted with the
effects of Christ's death, ib., 43 :
Kai ^dvaros d p,ev tovs /ter' avrdv KaTeKpivev,
b Se Kai tovs irpd avrov yevopevovi dveiJTqae.
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 :
AtirAovv drreBdvopev ¦qpel'i BdvaTOV,
ovKOvv SiTrX-qv TTpotrSoKrjcrwpev ttjv dvdcrTaoiv ;
Avros aTrAoiiv drreBave BdvaTOv,
8id roiJTO Kai dirA^v dvecFTq dvdcrTacriv.
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 : (TvveTacj>rjpev ydp avroj ev tw BaTrrtcTjitaTt,
Kat cruvrjyepBrjpev avTta Std rov Bairrt'cr^aros.
The lot of Adam contrasted with that of Job, 52, 400, 6 :
Tt <jj(j)eXrjfjev eKelvov b TrapdSctcros ;
TJ Tt e^Xatj/e toUtov 17 KOrrpia ;
The death of Lazarus and of Dives, 49, 72, 33 :
Tt rotwv TTape/SXaij/ev avrov rd jSiaiw; drroBavelv ]
Tl Se TOV irAovCTtov wvqae to pr] /Siaiw; drroBavelv ',
Note the chiasmus.
The Church's idea of a slave and a freeman ; observe the
double paronomasia and hyperbaton, 50, 437, 49 :
dAA' eKelvov oiSe SovAov -q Tpa<j>rj tov Ty dpapTia SeSovXwpevov .
Sacred Text: . .
Kat eKelvov o'lSev eXevBepov tov vtto Trj'; Beias x'^P'ros fjXevBepwpevov.
St. Paul's apostolic labors; with paronomasia, 52, 409, 16:
rds dKav^as dvarc/ttvwv r^s dtrcjSetas,
rd (TTTeppaTa KaTa/3aXXwv r^s cvo-cySeias.

50
The grandeur and perpetual youth of the Church, 52, 402, 6 :
Tov ovpavov vij/rjXorepa ecrrt,
r^s y^s TrXaTvrepa etrriv.
OvSeTTOTe yrjpa,
act oe aKpaQei.
St. Timothy's solicitude about his soul and his mortification of
the flesh; note the hyperbaton in the last colon, 49, 21, 26:
'AdBeveiTW, t^yqal, to trwpa,
Kal prj daBeveiTW -q i/'vx'J)
XaAivovcr^ft) 17 crdp^,
Kai prj epTToSi^eoBw b xpds rdj, ovpavdv r^s i/fvx^s Spo/uos.
The hospitality of Job contrasted with the spiritual charity of
St. Paul, 50, 476, 29 :
'A ydp EKCtvos TTCpi rovs Tqv crdpKa TreTrqpwpevovi eiTeSeiKwro,
TavTa OVTOS Trepi rovs ttjv i/'vxtjv XeXw^ypevov; eTrparrc.
Contrast between the Feast of the Ascension and Pentecost ;
note the kvkAos and the chiasmus, 50, 456, 40 :
Kat ydp -q tfivui'; -q -qpeTepa rrpb SeKa fjpepwv cts rdv Bpovov dve/3rj tov
jSatrtAtKov,
Kat ro TlveUpa to dyiov KaTe/Srj arjpepov Trpos ttjv fj>vcnv Tqv -qpeTepav.
The bounty of the Master and the perfidy of Judas, 49,
389, 31 : 'O AeuTTOTrji eTpecf>e,
Kai b SovAos CTrtTrpatTKCV.
Jesus betrayed and Judas the betrayer, 49, 381, 61 :
'O pev ydp TrpoSoflcts 'iTjcrovs ttjv olKovpevqv ecrwuev,
b Se TrpoSovs 'lovSas ttjv cavrovl i/'vxtjv dTrwAccrc-
Kai d pev TrpoSoBel'i 'Itjctovs ev Se^a tov Ilarpos ev ovpavois KdBrjTai,
b Se TrpoSovs 'lovSas tv aSov vijv ean.
The self-abasement of the God-man is expressed in 52, 406,
10: Kcirat ev tpdrvrj b Tqv o'lKOvpevqv Paard^wv,
Kal iuTTapydvwTai b Trdvra TTepieTTwv.
Contrast between man and God, whom he is bidden to call
Father, 51, 44, 21 : d y^t'vos rov ovpdviov,
b BvrjTO'i TOV dBdvaTov,
b <j>BapTO>; TOV d<j>BapTov,
0 Trpoo'Katpos rov aiwvtov,
d x^^* ''<*' TTpwrjV TTTjAos, rov ovra Trpo rtov aliLvwv Beov.

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 :
©Tjptov ccrriv d ttAovItos"
av pev KaTexqTai, </>evycf
av Se aKopTTi^rjTai, pevei.
In confirmation ( !) of this statement, Chrysostom cites Ps.
Ill, 9 • 'EcTKopTrtcrc ydp, <j>rjalv, eSwKe rots Trc'vTjo'tv, fj SiKaiocrovq avTov
pevei eis rdv aituva. Then he resumes the paradox :
!§KopTrtcrov, "va peiv-y
pr] Karopv^jji, iva p-q </>vyTj.
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, i. e., wealth.
On the peace of soul that results from the reading of Holy
Scripture, 52, 397, 13: 'H BaXaatra paiverai,
crv Se peTa yaXrjvrji ttAccis.
With reference to Matth. XI, 12: "The kingdom of heaven
suffereth violence," 52, 401, 50:
Ti dprrd^efi tov TreVTjra rov cyKaAovvra ;
ApTTaaov TOV XpicrTOv tov eTTaivovvra.
Human nuptials and the nuptials with Christ, 52, 402, 28 :
O Koivoiv Kai TrapaSd^cov irpayjudrtov,
Tdpo'i Trap' fjpiv rrapBeviav Avet,
ydp.os Trapd ©eoi Trap^cvtav dvco'TTjce.
Ilap' i7jittv -q oiiaa TrapSc'vos, yapovpevq, ovk eerrt Trap^cvos*
Trapd Xpto-rw 17 ovcra TTopvrj, yapovpevq, TTapBevo'i yeyovev.
God's desire and man's lust, 52, 405, 37 :
fj eiriBvpla tov dvBpwTTOV, dTrtoActa r^s emBvpovpevrj'i-
fj Se eTTiBvpia tov ©eov, awTqpia Ty eTTiBvpovpevy.
Persecution can not destroy the flock of Christ nor the
branches of the Vine, 50, 616, 33 :
CTri y^s rd TTolpviov, Kai o iTOipMvwv ev ovpavw-
errl y^s at KXypiaTiSes, Kal ev ovpavw 17 d/HTrcAos-
av Se CKTC/HTjs rds KXypaTiSai, TroAvrrAacrtd^cts T-qv dprreXov.
Note the chiasmus.

52
Contrast between real war and the spiritual warfare against
the heretics, 50, 701, i :
rotovros ydp ypCiv b TroAc/ios"
OVK d?ro ^wvrwv vcKpovs epya^erat,
dAA' aTrd veKpwv fwvras KaracrKCva^ct.
Death of the body and death of the soul, 49, 71, 42 :
OvK olaBa, OTI
oi cv dpapTiaii dvres, Kav i,wcnv, dviBavov-
oi Se cv SiKaiotrvvy f wvrcs, Kctv dTToBdvwiri, t,w<ji ;
Contrast between the waters of Creation and the waters of
Baptism, 50, 439, 42 :
'El^yayc TOTe Ta vSara tx^vas dAdyovs Kai d</)wvovs,
c|cj8aAc vvv ix^vas AoytKovs Kai TTvevpariKovi,
ixBvai VTTO TWV dTTOUToXwv dAtevflcvras.
The method of the ordinary fishermen and that of the spir
itual fishermen, 50, 439, 48 :
ol dAtevovrcs eK twv vSarwv cKySaAAovcrtv,
i7p,cts eis rd vSara eve^dXXopev,
Kal ovTws ^Atevcra;Ltcv.
Note the polyptoton and paronomasia in the above.
The spiritual victory of the martyrs is represented in this
series of paradoxes, 50, 708, 11 :
Tts OVK av CKTrAayetTj, ort
d patTTit,opevoi Trcpiycvcrat roii /xacrrt^ovros,
d SeSepevo<i tov XeXvpevov,
b KaTaKaiopevoi tov Katovros,
d aTToBvycFKwv rov dvatpovvros ;
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 : OuScv ItTxvpOTepov eKeivov to rrpoTepov, dyaTnjrc,
Kai ovSev dtrBevetiTepov fjpwv-
dAAd vvv ovSc'v ccrrtv dcr^evecrrepov eKeivov,
Kat ovSev lax^pOTepov fjpwv.
EiSes Trws dptCTTJj 17 peracrracrts yeyove ;
Trws rd iaxvpa dcr^cv^ CTrotTjcre,
Kai rd daBevy iaxvpd KaTea-Kevatrev b ©eds . . . . ;
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

S3
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 KoppaTa 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 :
rd prqpaTa, rd /SXeppaTa, rd axypara, y ySdSto'is, d pvBpb'i, y StaKptcrts,
rd peXy rd rropviKa.
52, 409, 20 : Ilpds ©paKas, Trpds Skv^os, Trpds 'Ii/Sovs, Trpds Mavpovs,
Trpds SapSoviovs, Trpds Forflovs, Trpos Bypia dypia, Kal peTe/iaXy Travra.
50, 494, 1 7 • "¦'"^'^ ™'' oIkiHv, drro Ttav rroXewv, drro rwv dypwv, dTTO r^s
epypiai, aTrd rwv 'EAA^vwv, dTrd rwv 'lovSatwv, diro rwv dpxovTwv, drTO twv
dpxopevwv, drrb rwv crvyyevwv, dTrd r^s y^s, aTrd T^s BaXdTTy;, drTO rwv
jSaCTtAevdvrwv, Kai . . . e^aypiovvTwv, koI . . erriTiBepevwv.
49, 4O) 51 : ov ydp TTepietjKOTTei ttjv tov Sctvos oiKiav,
ovSe TTepieipyd^eTO ttjv tov Sctvos ovaiav.
Here two pair of synonyms are employed, and toU Seivos 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.
SO, 645, 42 : Ei ydp oi Trept rd BeaTpa pepyvoTei,
Kal TTpds TTJV TWV ITTTTWV apiXXav KeX»JVOTCS.
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 :
Hcvovs d Saipwv TT)p./8wpvxtas eiuayei vopov;,
Kai Katvovs ^evrjAacrtas CTrtvoet rpoTrovs.

54
In the following example there is an excessive use of asso
nance in final syllables, 52, 396, 25 :
Qtrrrep ydp tov tLpbv Kal aTrdvBpWTTOV aTTOiXTpetfseTai Kai piaei,
OVTW TOV eXeSqpova Kal tfuXdvBpwrrov TTpocrieToi Kai </>iAet.
52,411,48: eis rd TTapovra, Kal cts rd p.cAAovTa-
eis rd bptipeva, Kal eis rd dKOVop.eva-
eis rd SeSopeva, koi eis rd Trtcrrevo/ieva.
52, 401, 41 : Twv dXXoTpiwv py erriBvpei,
Tfjv XVP'"' l^-'l yvpvwcry;,
TOV op<f>avov py dpiTauyi,
Tyv OLKiav py AdjSjs
The effect of the homoioteleuton is heightened by epanaphora
in 5O) 599. 1 1 : Ovk eWtv CKCt p.crajSoA'^s ciKwv
OVK ecrrt TpoTrrji drroaKiaapa,
TTavTa Se rrerTyyoTa Kal aKivyTa,
TTavTa fiejSaia Kal iSpvpeva,
TTOVTa dfj>BapTa Kal dBdvaTa
Trdvra dKypaTa Kal del SiapievovTa.
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:
OTTws yawpev, ovx dVws w<f>eXycrwpai,
dirws BavpatrBwpev, ovx ^''''^^ SiSd^wpev,
OTrws Tepij/wpev, ovx dirws KaTavv^wpev,
OTrws KpOTyBiapev, Kal ciratvov rvxovrcs aTTeXBwpev,
ovx dVws rd ¦^^tj pvBpiawpev.
Assonance of the final syllables at the beginning of the cola
heightens the effect of this series of homoioteleuta, 50, 447, 54:
drav Kat ovwv dvatcr^TjTdrepot,
Kai /80WV dAoycoTcpot,
Kai x^XiSovo'i Kal rpvydvos dyvwp.ovccrTepoi,
Kat pvpprjKwv dcrvvcrwrcpot,
Kai At^wv dvatcT^TjTdrepot,
Kat o<f>ewv tcrot <f>aivwpeBa.

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 :
Ov rd xp^/*ara avroij cAa/8ev;
'AAAd TTJV evcrc'/Setav ovk etrvXyaev.
Ov TOVI iratSas avroij ^pTracrcv ;
'AAAa TTJV TTltJTlV OVK ccrotAcvo'cv.
Ov TO uwpa avTov Sieppy^ev ;
'AAAa TOV Bytravpov ovx ^P^-
Ov Tqv yvvatKa avroii wTrAtcrev ;
'AAAa TOI, crrpartwTTjv ovx wecrKc'Ato'ev.
Ovk cySaAc rd|a Kai /Sc'Atj ;
'AAAa TpavjuiTa ovk eSe^aro.
Upouyyaye pyxavypaTa,
dAAd TOV TTvpyov ovk eueicrev ;
CTTTjyaye Kvpara,
dAAa TO ttXoIov ov KaTerTOVTicre.
Another series of homoioteleuta of monotonous length occurs
52, 408, 55 :
XwAovs SitapBov, yvp.vovs cvcSvc, veKpov^ yyeipe,
AcTrpovs eKaBdpi^e, Sid^oXov eTreaTopi^e, Satpovas dircTrvtyc,
TW ©ew StcAcycro, 'EKKATjcrtav e<j>VTevae, vaovs KaTeirKaipe,
fiwpiovs dveTpetj/e, ttjv KaKiav cAvcrc, ttjv dpeTyv etjtvTeva-e,
rovs dv^pwTTOvs dyye'Aovs CTTOiycre.
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.

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 bounds of sobriety and true art. Hermogenes remarks ^
that the excessive use of tropes was one of the vices of the WofvAot
troipifTTai. 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, Trepi ISeav, .292, I9 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 : TTOvyp'ia'i jSdpaBpov ; 52, 395, 33 ¦ '''°^ (TTdxyv KopuivTa t^s
cTvpTTaBeia'i ; 52, 443, 57 : "the flower of liberty" ; 52, 404, 26 :
dva^aivw tio TTTepw tov voypaTOi ; 49, 37, 47 • eavTOVi TTTepwawpev Tal';
IXttiiti ; 56, 267, 49 • Kapivov cpwros .... Trept(/)e'petv ; 50, 474) ^ 7 • '''"^
dKav^as rwv dpaprqpdTwv dvaiTTTtov, Kal tov Adyov r^s eiHTe^eia'i
KaTOUTTeipwv ; 50, 615, 32- rdv x^'-t'-°-PP°^^ '''"^ KTjpvyjxaros ; 5*3, 573) '4-
"the spark of religion" ; 50, 468, 42 : rd dAoya r-^s Stavotas oKipTypaTa.
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, i, "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 rdv dvSpidvra
r^s dper^s ; 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 Hons" 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," i. 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 raiira aVTTj 17 rciiv TTpaypaTwv dXyBeia /3oa,
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 "incHne 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: TrotKt'Aos da-Tepwv
.... xopo'^; 5*3, 647, 53: rwv At'^wv rds vt</>d8as (Cf. Aesch. Pr.
199) ; 5*3, 475, 59- ftvptas vt<^dSas TTeipatrpjov ; the marching in proces
sion to the graves of the martyrs is called: xope"'"") 5°, 699, 50;
the martyrs entering heaven are represented as joining the choir
of the Blessed, who had been their oTryxopevrat on earth, 50, 710,
43; 2 the plenitude of the Holy Spirit is designated as x°P'T/'^'"'i
52, 408, 48.
A metaphor that occurs frequently in some of the sophists is
wSivw, used in a figurative sense. Chrysostom applies the term to
Julian the Apostate, plotting a persecution against the Christians :
50, 574, I • wStvovros eKelvov rdv TrdAcp,ov e^evcyKctv. He likewise de
scribes the storm of persecution as : TrtKpd rtva wSt'vwv vavdyia, 52,
549, 22.'
' Cf. Guignet, 139, on Gregory Nazianzen's use of the same term.
8 Cf Guignet, 139.

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.
I. Metaphors borrowed from military science:
The struggle of the soul against the flesh and its passions is
styled, jiwix'?, TrdAep.os, Trapdra^ts, 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, 5*38, 5 • ^'° ''''¦'¦ StKaiws c^erc/ivero, ort ev avrw rd^as eavrdv tw
peTtoTTio r^s <t>dXayyo'i, u<f>6Spa dvdvSpw; eiiTTyKei. 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 miHtary, naval, and athletic terms sets forth the victorious
struggles of the Church, 52, 397, 60: "Such might has the
Church: when she is assailed {rroXepovpevy) she conquers: ....
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 (TrvKrevet) but is not van
quished." One of the persecutors of the Church is described thus, 50,
644, 29 : rvpawos eis ovpavov ro^evctv CTrtxetptuv.* The mouths of the
martyrs, speaking in defence of the Faith are styled quivers
{fieXoBrjKy), 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, rdv TrdAejoiov dKpojSoAt^d/xcvos,
* 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
5*3, 573, 39- On Good Friday Chrysostom bids the faithful:
dAaAd^wpcv, KaBaTTep crrpariwrat, ttjv CTrtvtKiov w5^v, 49, 39", 5*3-
2. Metaphors dra'wn 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. II, 4),
they maintained in the religious domain their ancient popularity,
and gradually became so common that they almost lost their fig
urative character, d^ATjr^s and dywvto-r^s becoming equivalent to
martyr. Job is called p,cyas dSATjrr/s, 50, 476, II. St. Paul is described as,
TrcAayet ttvktcvwv Kat Xipw .... Kat Kpvpw, Kal TravraxoiJ Wcp rd
(TKdppaTa TTTjSwv, 50, 475, 62. The religious services in honor of a
martyr are termed ^cwpt'a dywvto-yttdrwv, 50, 665, 5, and the faithful
attend these services in order to learn dyom^eirBai, TrayKpartcifctv.
The martyrs are described as looking up with eager eyes to their
dywvo^e'njs {i.e., God), 50, 647, 51. St. Ignatius, Martyr, is styled
'OAv/tirtovtKTjs, 50, 606, 57, and God, who called him from Antioch
to Rome, where he was martyred, is represented as, /MtKpore'povs
avrw Tt^eis rovs StavAovs tov Sfiopov, ^o, 592) 40, and the Christians
who met him on his journey yXei<l>ov tov dBXyTyv, ib. 49, and were
consoled to see him so eagerly eiri BdvaTijv rpe'^ovra, ib. 53. Chrys
ostom remarks that at the feasts of the rich one can see, crrdStov Koi
dpiXXav SiajioXiKyv, 50, 435, 1 7, and that the rich man affords the
devil many occasions for attack (Aa/3ds, grip, hold), 49, 45, 55.
The devil is said to grapple with us {ovpTTXeKeirBai) , thus giving us
opportunities to win crowns, 50, 441, i. His own work of preach
ing and instructing the faithful Chrysostom characterizes thus:
dXei<j>0VTei vpds KaB' eKaanqv ypepav, 5*3, 44*3, 44. Speaking of the
great number of martyrs, he says : iroAAoi ot dvojojpvTTop^oi Kdi
<Trc(^avovp,cvot, 50, 587, 33, and, ib. 38 : "they run the race of piety,"
and again, ib. 44: "both men and women strip for these contests
(Trpds rovs dywvas dTTcSwavro rovrovs). The angels and his six older
brothers are described as looking down from heaven upon the
glorious spectacle {Biarpov) 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 Httle 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 shaH 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
(fvvwpt's, a pair of horses) of holy soldiers has marshalled in
battle-array the host of Christ; rdrc 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), vvv ^vwpis
p.apTvpwv." 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
tion, 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 Xipyv djcupavTOi Kal rctxos dcrijiaXei, 52, 395, ^^¦
To reach heaven with a rich store of merits is expressed thus:
perd TToAA^s r^s eprropiai eis eKelvov KaTarrXevtrai tov Xipeva, 5*3, 577, 5-
Om St. Eustathius, Martyr: "He has crossed the strait (cijptTrov) 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 x"/*'"'', and the hope is expressed that God will
soon restore the calm (yaA^vTjv), 49, 36, 34. The gathering of the
faithful in church is termed : ^ciAarra evpvx<"pos IpTreTTXyirpevy, dAA' oi
TapaTTopivq Ty fdAjj rwv dvep,wv, 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 : oi vailrat peO" vpMv KaB' vjjmv yeyovatriv,
oi'rtves rdv rroXepov tw ttXoiio KaTeuKevaaev, 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 Spdpa and rpaywSta
to denote scenes of a pathetic nature, and in his use of the term
Trpoo-wTTciov in a figurative sense, e. g., the term rpaywSta 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 (oTJWTroxpt'vjj rd Spdpa
T^s vjSpews) !" 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 {yXeyxBy rd TTpoaiorrela) ," 52, 400,
37. In another place, 50, 531, 33: "The demon raised his mask
and openly {yvpvrj Ty KeipaXy) 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 Httle 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. Ill; Ezech. XVI; Osee II and III), where the Jewish
'On Gregory of Nyssa, cf. Meridier, 108; on Gregory Nazianzen,
Guignet, 148.

64
people in their disloyalty to God are likened to a prostitute.
Chrysostom says verbatim {Hom. II on Eutropius, 52, 405, 29) :
d Too-oijros Kai ttjAikovtos IrTeBvpyae TrdpvTjs. IldpVTjs IrTeBvpei b ©eos ;
Nai, TTo'pvTjs. 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.e., the Holy Spirit). After an interval of
about one column the original figure is resumed {ib. 407, 39).
Christ gives his Bride an earnest {dppa/Siova) , a dowry {TTpolKa),
gifts of betrothal (p,v^o-rpa) {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 (irapdSolov) :
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. eipya^ovTO peTaXXa ol pvpiwv yep,ovTCs Byaavpwv."
On Sts. Juventinus and Maximinus, who were beheaded at
midnight, 5*3, 57^, 20 : ev, pe'o-w o-KOret ot (/)wcrr^pes e^yovTO Kai
drTeTepvovTo. This is an artificial specimen. The metaphor <^wo-r^pcs
is introduced solely for the sake of a contrast with o-Korct. There
is also here a jumble of the metaphorical (</)wcrT^pcs) with the
literal sense (dircrc'/*vovTo).
The most strongly sophistic metaphor we have found in Chrys-
oc^-m h Gorgias' notorious paradox of eptpvxoi Td</>ot (for vui-

65
tures), already discussed among the oxymora (p. 36). Chrysos
tom applies the figure to the faithful, stating that they are "Hving
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 :
Beapa Kaivov koi TTapdSo^ov (rdpKtvos crapKtvois dudpKw; </>pcyydpcvos.
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 (TrapdSo^ov) lamb !" Chrysos
tom then addresses a lengthy apostrophe to the martyr, repeating
some of the above figures and adding : c'Aa/3es eis rd <f>BeyyeiTBai
TrXfjKTpov, av Se avTO Tepvopevov daTaxyv dve'Sct^as. 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 {ib. 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 {avplypura)
sound about your bride, once more the serpent is breaking into
(rotxwpvxet) 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.
" Cf . the bombastic apostrophe which the father of Cynaegirus ad
dresses to the hand of his son in Polemo's Declamation A, 35 ff.

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 Meridier 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, ii : "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
{i. 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 Meridier (117) on Gregory of Nyssa, and of
Guignet (161) on Gregory Nazianzen, z'iz., that Chrysostom's
comparisons are not taken from a great variety of subjects. All
may be reduced to a limited number of stereotype forms, sHghtly
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, miHtary 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.
I. Comparisons with the sun, e.g., 50, 703, 26: One who
denies the divinity of Christ is Hke 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 Hght 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
brifliant array of wounds. Cf. also 50, 670, i ; 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 fafling 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, 3*3: The mouths of blasphemers are likened to death-
deaHng weUs. 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 (wSt'vct) 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
Hkened 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, Hke a
ship, is bespattered on all sides and contracts many flaws. 52,
416, 50: One who hoards up excessive wealth is Hke 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 (dywno-rat) 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 {i. 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 {dXaXd^wpev .... ttjv emvUiov wStjv)." On St.
Roman, Martyr, 50, 613, 18: "The martyr laughed at this conflict
{i. e., martyrdom) as at some mock-fight, and as if he were ev
aKdppaaiv (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 hi.s
course against the Church." Note the ingenious apphcation 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 fiHed 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, 7*39) 10 :
Of the martyrs Chrysostom says : "These, like athletes crowned
(o-rcc^avtrat), departed after the contests to their dywvodeTy; {i.e.,

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 wrestHng
{TTaXaitrpaTa) ." 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 (Aa;8ds) with them. The narration of
their sufferings spreads out before us, as in a stadium (ev
oKappaai), the double course (StavAov) 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 TratSorpt'jSTjs (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 diiferent 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 TTaiSoTpijSyi 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, 1 1 : "For if, on the arrival of stranger athletes in
a town, all the people gather in a circle and examine their well-
shaped Hmbs : with greater Hkelihood 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 oif 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 TrayKpdrtov 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 draivn from the chariot raccs, 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 Hkens 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 oflf with us, as to have wrought such evils, as one can
hardly dare to mention." Ib. 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 : 'Ekci tto^tttj SiafioXiKy, evTaUBa eopTq xP"^riavtK^- CKCt
Saipoves aKipTwaiv, evTavBa dyyeXoi xop^ovo-tv cKct i/'vxwv dirwActa,
evTavBa awTypia rwv crvAAeyo/ievwv dTrdvrwv. Then he asks : W hat

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 Hkened to a park aiflicted 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 appHed to a city) ; ib. 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.
9. Comparisons zvith anim,als, 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, Meridier, 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, i : "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. Com,parisons zvith 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

76
martyr is compared to a tympanum : "The executioners stood
about and crushed his body with blows, but he, Hke 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 Hfe,
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. II. 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 Hkened
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 hi iders one in walking, so superfluous wealth is a hindrance

n
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 buming 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 Hving wickedly contracts the
guilt of aH 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 hurHng 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, falHng 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. II On the Maccabees opens with a far-fetched and ex
aggerated comparison, which is meant to illustrate the preacher's
aTTopia, 50, 623, 17: "When I consider the glorious deeds of the
Seven Martyrs, I fare Hke 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  "
Sometimes the first member of a comparison is nothing else
than a disguised ecphrasis, or artistic description, absorbing aU
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, Hke 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, ib., the martyrs' struggle is compared to
an athletic combat, and, ib. 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 faithfiilly 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 He by the side of the soldiers of Christ; and,
as kings bury brave chiefs with their arms, so Christ too buried
the tnar«-yrs 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, nibbHng 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 Hnes, 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 foHowing 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 iUustrate 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 Hke a garden, and cherishes her
Hke 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 caU
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 Hke 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 piUars, 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 (xopds), and an army in battle-array (irapdralts) ....
for like dancers they hastened to the scenes of torture with de
Hght, 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 comparison
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, 1 1 : "As a brave warrior rushes against the foe, routs their
Hne, 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, II, 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 Hons 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, 78, 32.

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 (Spdo-ov).
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 skiUed 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 oif aU 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 as a 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 oflf 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 appHed 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 (Apoo-t's) probably suggested the paradoxical comparison
of fire to dew (Spdcros).
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 pecuHar 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 Hfelike 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. ib.), 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 Hfe 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 Meridier'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 Hghts 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 fiU 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.2 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 Hke 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-
3 Cf. Meridier, 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,
whUst 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 reaHstic 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 fiUed 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, govemors, 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 He in order, ghttering 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 aU 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 satisfled 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 briUiant picture of the
departed glory of the onetime powerful consul, who was cHnging
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 aU 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
aU 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, aU is vanity.' "
Never was the emptiness of human glory driven home with
more telHng 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 !
.... But if you are able to mention virtue, meekness etc. . . . ;
commend the city for these things!" A Httle 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 oS soul. This defi
nition, the details of which are dryly enumerated like a lesson of
philosophy, for Chrysostom says {ib. 61 ) : "Attend that you ma>'
learn the conception of phUosophers," 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 oflf before his hair, stands ready to be smitten with
' 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 eflfrontery 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 ; aU 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
tme 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 Httle further on her image
is sketched in a few words, ib. 267, 4 : rd pypaTa, rd axypa-ra, rd
PXeppaTa, y jSdStcrts, d pvBpb';, y SidKpiai';, Ta peXy Ta iropvtKa.
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, nb 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."
* 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
detaU, 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, 549, 25. "Kai ei PovXei, Kai ciKOva dvaTrAdrrw
(mold, shape) rwv ytvope'vwv," 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 Iliad. 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 Meridier, 145, and for Gregory
Nazianzen, Guignet, 209.

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 (//. 13, 341) ;
let the clashing of spears and the neighing of horses be borne up
to the very heavens (//. 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 hirn 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 haUstorm of arrows {II. 12, 156), that great mist and
obscurity, that gloomiest night which the multitude of weapons
occasions, ecHpsing the sunbeams with their cloud, the dust {II.
13, 335) no less than the darkness baffling the eyesight. The tor
rents of blood {II. 15, 715), the groans of the fallen, the shouts
of the surviving (//. 4, 450), the heaps of slain, wheels bathed in
blood (//. II, 534), horses with their riders thrown down headlong
(/;. II, 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 suflferings 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
1° 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
land  " The exaggerated and declamatory tone of this
soHloquy 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, e. 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 flrst,
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 oif the skin, and him who suflfered 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 fiUed 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 skiU to soothe {BcXiai) ;
and besides all this, most holy and most awful, and fuU 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 dweU 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 wiU 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 ^cA^at to desig
nate the effect of St. John's preaching is notable here, for the
ii/?om. XIII, 14; Gal. 111,27,
12 Eph. VI, 15.

100
sophists, as far back as Thrasymachus and Gorgias, regarded
KTjActv, ^e'Ayctv tovs dv^pwTrovs 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.^*
12 Cf. Norden, Die Antike Kunstprosa, I, 7.
1* 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 flgures, 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, puerUe, 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 ediflcation or moral instruction.
Some modern critics seem to minimize too strongly the influ
ence of the sophistic rhetoric on Chrysostom. Thus L. Acker
mann 1 makes the strange statement : "Der hi. Johannes Chrysos
tomus spricht in dem Stile des hi. Paulus. . . . Der griechische
Stil ist zur Zeit des Heiligen lange nicht mehr rein und natiirlich
gewesen. Selbst Libanius, der beriihmteste Rhetoriker damahger
Zeit, hat sich nicht dem Einflusse des schlechten Geschmackes
entziehen konnen. Aber Chrysostomus hielt sich davon frei, sagt
Cramer. . .^ Manirirtheit aber flndet sich bei Chrysostomus
nicht  "
U. von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff makes the sweeping asser
tion : '' "In den grossen Reden, . . . schweUen die wohllauten-
den Perioden an, reicher wird der Schmuck, aber nirgend etwas
1 Die Beredsamkeit des hi. Johannes Chrysostomus, 99,
2 Des hi. Kirchenlehrers Johannes Chrysostomus Predigten, verbessert
fon P. Vital Mosl, 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 iiberlegene
Kunst dessen, der die Seele nicht uberrumpeln oder faszinieren.
sondern Kopf und Herz zugleich gewinnen wiU."
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 konnen, in denen der So-
phistenzogling das Wort fiihrt 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 modifled 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 if.). 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. Ill, 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 ahquando invenimus aliquid sapienter a gentilibus
dictum, non continuo cum auctoris nomine spernere debemus et
dicta, nee 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, 2i)." Chrysostom is indeed, as Villemain styles him. "par
excellence le Gree devenu chretien," he is in the words of the same
writer : "Le plus grand orateur de I'Eglise primitive, le plus vivant
temoin de cette memorable epoque." "
= In Exod. hom. XI, 6, M, i2, 380,
'De I'eloquence chretienne dans le quatrieme siecle, 351.

VITA
Thomas Edward Ameringer was born at Cincinnati, Ohio,
February 19, 1886. He received his elementary education in the
parish schools and his classical training in St. Francis Seraphic
CoUege (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. Bemard,
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 lectures 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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