Barlaam and Ioasaph

Name: Barlaam and Ioasaph
Author: Anonymous

Anonymous, traducido por George Ratcliffe Woodward, Harold Mattingly

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Preface

The Tale

There is no doubt that the author of Barlaam and Ioasaph himself regarded his story as a true narrative of the lives of real characters and that this view was universally held until quite recent times. The names of Saint Barlaam and Saint Ioasaph have figured in the Calendars both of the Roman and of the Greek Church and still retain their place in the latter. Today, however, this view can be no longer held. A comparison of the story with the well-known legend of Buddha must convince every open-minded reader, that the outline of the plot is derived from the same Eastern source; in spite of all difference in detail, the general resemblance is quite undeniable. The writer himself tells us, that the story was brought to him from India, and it is highly probable, that what he heard was simply a version of the life of Buddha, adapted by Christians of the East to their own use. But we should be going too far, if we sought for traces of Buddhist influence in the doctrinal teaching of the story. No real relationship has ever yet been proved between Christian and Buddhist monasticism; in fact, in spite of certain obvious resemblances, the two differ profoundly in spirit. The aim of the Buddhist monk is mainly negative—deliverance from the evils of the flesh; that of the Christian has also a positive aspect—surrender of the semblance of happiness in this world in order to gain the reality hereafter, the “ἀπόρρητα ἀγαθά” laid up for the righteous in Heaven.

The main aim of the author was the glorification of this Christian monasticism. Marriage, the cares of social and business life, the duties of citizenship—all these, though not represented as inconsistent with Christian living, appear only as a second best. The ideal is the complete devotion of the whole personality to religious contemplation, the renunciation of wealth and pleasure and the mortification of the flesh. In his enthusiasm for the monastic life, as too in his passionate defence of the veneration of Images, our author shows himself clearly an obstinate adversary of the great Iconoclastic movement of the eighth century AD.

Our book falls roughly into three distinct parts: the narrative—the thread on which the whole is strung: the speeches—many of them of great length—containing long expositions of Christian doctrine, confessions of Faith and hymns of praise, and frequent long quotations from early Christian writers;1 and the Apologues,2 fables or parables, introduced in the speeches to illustrate pictorially some moral truth. The whole work is steeped in the language of the Bible and of the Christian Fathers; and it is this fact that has led the translators to adopt a style modelled on that of the Authorised Version. The task is not easy or without its perils; but in no other way, we believe, could the unity of the book be maintained; the Biblical quotations, frequent as they are, would harmonise badly with a more modern style.

Books, like men, have their vicissitudes of fate. The favourite work of one generation may be the laughingstock of the next; and the “edifying story of Barlaam and Ioasaph,” which once enjoyed a popularity comparable to that of the Pilgrim’s Progress and furnished material for storybooks and romances, for sermons and plays, has fallen into deep oblivion. That it will ever regain this lost fame is hardly to be expected; its world of thought is far removed from ours and its controversies have in many cases ceased to concern us very deeply. But the tale has still life and vigour; it is no corpse of a book that we are dragging from its tomb: we found it, as the seekers found the bodies of the dead Saints, Barlaam and Ioasaph, “οὐδὲν τοῦ προτέρου χρωτὸς παράλλαττον, ὁλόκληρον δὲ καὶ ἀκριβῶς ὑγιές.”

The Apologues

It is probable that these picturesque and effective little stories came with the main narrative from an Eastern source.3 The first ten are put into the mouth of Barlaam, the last into that of Theudas, and all are used to point some moral truth. The style is simple and graphic and to some readers the Apologues may form the most attractive part of the book.

The best known is, of course, the tale of the Caskets, made famous by its repetition in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice.

The Apology of Aristides

In 1889 Professor Rendel Harris discovered a Syriac version of the Apology of Aristides in St. Katharine’s Convent on Mt. Sinai. While engaged on a study of the new text Dr. Armitage Robinson was reminded of a passage in Barlaam and Ioasaph, and, on turning to the text made the interesting discovery, that the speech of Nachor (see here) was nothing but the Apology in a Greek dress, fitted, with some deftness, into its new context.4 For all details we will refer to Dr. Armitage Robinson’s work. We need only remind our readers here, that, according to Eusebius of Caesarea, the “Apology” was a defence of Christianity presented by Aristides, a philosopher of Athens, in 124 to the Emperor Hadrian, when on a visit to that city; that modern scholars have found some reasons for assigning the work to the reign of Antoninus Pius, but that beyond all question, it is an early and authentic Christian document. The tone is calm and reasonable and the appeal made is rather to common sense and plain facts than to subtleties of logic or to exalted emotion.

The Authorship

The question of the authorship of Barlaam and Ioasaph cannot be passed over in silence, but considerations of space will only allow us to sum up the arguments and conclusions as briefly as possible.

Throughout the Middle Ages down to quite recent times the book was almost universally attributed to St. John of Damascus. No other attributions need be seriously considered, and the only question for us to decide is whether we can accept the traditional authorship of the Damascene or must let the book remain anonymous. The earliest MSS. mention as author a certain “John the Monk”; but a Latin MS. of the twelfth century in the British Museum gives it to John of Damascus by name, and after that time the tradition becomes increasingly strong in his favour. But in 1886 H. Zotenberg, in an elaborate monograph, attempted to prove that St. John could not have been the author, and many writers have accepted his conclusions in simple trust. We will sum up the more important of his arguments:—

He points out that the definite attribution to St. John does not occur in the earliest MSS.
The importance of the questions of the two natures and the two wills of Christ suggests an earlier date than the eighth century—a date nearer to the time of the great controversies on these subtle points.
There is absolutely no mention of the Mohammedan religion.
The style is quite unlike that of St. John in his works of certain authenticity.

Zotenberg has a few other arguments that seem to us to carry no weight whatever; and he has also attempted, without much success, to dispose of the definite arguments in favour of the traditional attribution.

These arguments must now be stated:—

Our work exhibits the most striking resemblances on points of doctrine and use to the doctrinal works of St. John; in many passages the resemblance amounts almost to verbal identity.
There are frequent quotations from favourite authors of St. John, especially from St. Gregory of Nazianzus and St. Basil.
The defence of Images, coupled with the denunciation of Idolatry, the enthusiasm for the monastic ideal, and the scant regard shown for the bishops and the secular clergy, almost compel us to place the work in the time of the Iconoclastic Controversy. The position, taken up and defended, is exactly that of the Icon-venerators; and we regard this fact alone as conclusive evidence for an eighth century date.

In answer to Zotenberg’s arguments we may say:—

That “John the Monk,” to whom the earliest MSS. assign the work, may very well be St. John of Damascus; he seems to have been commonly known under this name.
The references to the controversies over the two natures and two wills of Christ are not nearly so frequent or so pointed as are those to the Icon Controversy. This argument, in any case, does not tell seriously against the traditional date.
The lack of any mention of Islam is more remarkable. But St. John had stood in friendly relations with the Mohammedans, and, as they were infidels indeed, but not idolators, they did not come within the special scope of his attack. He was actually accused by his enemies of being a “favourer of Mussulmans.” Hence his silence on this point, though striking, is not inexplicable.
The question of style is rather a difficult one. Zotenberg’s treatment of the subject is not very successful, and he has made several gross blunders, which justify serious doubts of his competency to pronounce on the subject. The case seems to stand thus: parts of the speeches, dealing with points of doctrine, are strikingly like St. John’s doctrinal works; other parts of the work, particularly the narrative sections, are less similar, but are not unlike some of St. John’s homilies. On such a point certainty is hardly attainable. We think it may safely be said that the style certainly does not rule out the possibility of St. John’s authorship; some readers will go further and maintain that it actually confirms it.

Our general conclusion then is this. There is a tradition in favour of St. John of Damascus as the author of Barlaam and Ioasaph. The book was undoubtedly written during the Iconoclastic Controversy, in the eighth century, probably at a time when the Iconoclasts were in the ascendant (c. 750 AD?). It was written either by St. John of Damascus himself or by another monk bearing the name of John, who was intimately acquainted with the works of the Damascene, quoted freely from the same authors, held the same views on general points of doctrine and took the same side in the Iconoclastic Controversy. We have examined Zotenberg’s arguments and found them insufficient; his followers have added little or nothing to his case. Langen, after a thorough inquiry, accepts the tradition: Max Müller characterises the arguments brought against it as very weak. We think therefore that the name of St. John of Damascus has still a right to appear on the title-page.

Introduction

“As many as are led by the Spirit of God they are sons of God” saith the inspired Apostle. Now to have been accounted worthy of the Holy Spirit and to have become sons of God is of all things most to be coveted; and, as it is written, “They that have become his sons find rest from all enquiry.” This marvellous, and above all else desirable, blessedness have the Saints from the beginning won by the practice of the virtues, some having striven as Martyrs, and resisted sin unto blood, and others having struggled in self-discipline, and having trodden the narrow way, proving Martyrs in will. Now, that one should hand down to memory the prowess and virtuous deeds of these, both of them that were made perfect by blood, and of them that by self-denial did emulate the conversation of Angels, and should deliver to the generations that follow a pattern of virtue, this hath the Church of Christ received as a tradition from the inspired Apostles, and the blessed Fathers, who did thus enact for the salvation of our race. For the pathway to virtue is rough and steep, especially for such as have not yet wholly turned unto the Lord, but are still at warfare, through the tyranny of their passions. For this reason also we need many encouragements thereto, whether it be exhortations, or the record of the lives of them that have travelled on the road before us; which latter draweth us towards it the less painfully, and doth accustom us not to despair on account of the difficulty of the journey. For even as with a man that would tread a hard and difficult path; by exhortation and encouragement one may scarce win him to essay it, but rather by pointing to the many who have already completed the course, and at the last have arrived safely. So I too, “walking by this rule,” and heedful of the danger hanging over that servant who, having received of his lord the talent, buried it in the earth, and hid out of use that which was given him to trade withal, will in no wise pass over in silence the edifying story that hath come to me, the which devout men from the inner land of the Ethiopians, whom our tale calleth Indians, delivered unto me, translated from trustworthy records. It readeth thus.

I

The country of the Indians, as it is called, is vast and populous, lying far beyond Egypt. On the side of Egypt it is washed by seas and navigable gulfs, but on the mainland it marcheth with the borders of Persia, a land formerly darkened with the gloom of idolatry, barbarous to the last degree, and wholly given up to unlawful practices. But when “the only-begotten Son of God, which is in the bosom of the Father,” being grieved to see his own handiwork in bondage unto sin, was moved with compassion for the same, and showed himself amongst us without sin, and, without leaving his Father’s throne, dwelt for a season in the Virgin’s womb for our sakes, that we might dwell in heaven, and be reclaimed from the ancient fall, and freed from sin by receiving again the adoption of sons; when he had fulfilled every stage of his life in the flesh for our sake, and endured the death of the Cross, and marvellously united earth and heaven; when he had risen again from the dead, and had been received up into heaven, and was seated at the right hand of the majesty of the Father, whence, according to his promise, he sent down the Comforter, the Holy Ghost, unto his eyewitnesses and disciples, in the shape of fiery tongues, and despatched them unto all nations, for to give light to them that sat in the darkness of ignorance, and to baptize them in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost—whereby it fell to the lot of some of the Apostles to travel to the far-off East and to some to journey to the Westward, while others traversed the regions North and South, fulfilling their appointed tasks—then it was, I say, that one of the company of Christ’s Twelve Apostles, most holy Thomas, was sent out to the land of the Indians, preaching the Gospel of Salvation. “The Lord working with him and confirming the word with signs following,” the darkness of superstition was banished; and men were delivered from idolatrous sacrifices and abominations, and added to the true Faith, and being thus transformed by the hands of the Apostle, were made members of Christ’s household by Baptism, and, waxing ever with fresh increase, made advancement in the blameless Faith and built churches in all their lands.

Now when monasteries began to be formed in Egypt, and numbers of monks banded themselves together, and when the fame of their virtues and Angelic conversation “was gone out into all the ends of the world” and came to the Indians, it stirred them up also to the like zeal, insomuch that many of them forsook everything and withdrew to the deserts; and, though but men in mortal bodies, adopted the spiritual life of Angels. While matters were thus prospering and many were soaring upward to heaven on wings of gold, as the saying is, there arose in that country a king named Abenner, mighty in riches and power, and in victory over his enemies, brave in warfare, vain of his splendid stature and comeliness of face, and boastful of all worldly honours, that pass so soon away. But his soul was utterly crushed by poverty, and choked with many vices, for he was of the Greek way, and sore distraught by the superstitious error of his idol-worship. But, although he lived in luxury, and in the enjoyment of the sweet and pleasant things of life, and was never baulked of any of his wishes and desires, yet one thing there was that marred his happiness, and pierced his soul with care, the curse of childlessness. For being without issue, he took ceaseless thought how he might be rid of this hobble, and be called the father of children, a name greatly coveted by most people. Such was the king, and such his condition.

Meanwhile the glorious band of Christians and the companies of monks, paying no regard to the king’s majesty, and in no wise terrified by his threats, advanced in the grace of Christ, and grew in number beyond measure, making short account of the king’s words, but cleaving closely to everything that led to the service of God. For this reason many, who had adopted the monastic rule, abhorred alike all the sweets of this world, and were enamoured of one thing only, namely godliness, thirsting to lay down their lives for Christ his sake, and yearning for the happiness beyond. Wherefore they preached, not with fear and trembling, but rather even with excess of boldness, the saving Name of God, and naught but Christ was on their lips, as they plainly proclaimed to all men the transitory and fading nature of this present time, and the fixedness and incorruptibility of the life to come, and sowed in men the first seeds, as it were, towards their becoming of the household of God, and winning that life which is hid in Christ. Wherefore many, profiting by this most pleasant teaching, turned away from the bitter darkness of error, and approached the sweet light of Truth; insomuch that certain of their noblemen and senators laid aside all the burdens of life, and thenceforth became monks.

But when the king heard thereof, he was filled with wrath, and, boiling over with indignation, passed a decree forthwith, compelling all Christians to renounce their religion. Thereupon he planned and practised new kinds of torture against them, and threatened new forms of death. So throughout all his dominions he sent letters to his rulers and governors ordering penalties against the righteous, and unlawful massacres. But chiefly was his displeasure turned against the ranks of the monastic orders, and against them he waged a truceless and unrelenting warfare. Hence, of a truth, many of the Faithful were shaken in spirit, and others, unable to endure torture, yielded to his ungodly decrees. But of the chiefs and rulers of the monastic order some in rebuking his wickedness ended their lives by suffering martyrdom, and thus attained to everlasting felicity; while others hid themselves in deserts and mountains, not from dread of the threatened tortures, but by a more divine dispensation.

II

Now while the land of the Indians lay under the shroud of this moonless night, and while the Faithful were harried on every side, and the champions of ungodliness prospered, the very air reeking with the smell of bloody sacrifices, a certain man of the royal household, chief satrap in rank, in courage, stature, comeliness, and in all those qualities which mark beauty of body and nobility of soul, far above all his fellows, hearing of this iniquitous decree, bade farewell to all the grovelling pomps and vanities of the world, joined the ranks of the monks, and retired across the border into the desert. There, by fastings and vigils, and by diligent study of the divine oracles, he throughly purged his senses, and illumined a soul, set free from every passion, with the glorious light of a perfect calm.

But when the king, who loved and esteemed him highly, heard thereof, he was grieved in spirit at the loss of his friend, but his anger was the more hotly kindled against the monks. And so he sent everywhere in search of him, leaving “no stone unturned,” as the saying is, to find him. After a long while, they that were sent in quest of him, having learnt that he abode in the desert, after diligent search, apprehended him and brought him before the king’s judgement seat. When the king saw him in such vile and coarse raiment who before had been clad in rich apparel—saw him, who had lived in the lap of luxury, shrunken and wasted by the severe practice of discipline, and bearing about in his body outward and visible signs of his hermit-life, he was filled with mingled grief and fury, and, in speech blended of these two passions, he spake unto him thus:

“O thou dullard and mad man, wherefore hast thou exchanged thine honour for shame, and thy glorious estate for this unseemly show? To what end hath the president of my kingdom, and chief commander of my realm made himself the laughingstock of boys, and not only forgotten utterly our friendship and fellowship, but revolted against nature herself, and had no pity on his own children, and cared naught for riches and all the splendour of the world, and chosen ignominy such as this rather than the glory that men covet? And what shall it profit thee to have chosen above all gods and men him whom they call Jesus, and to have preferred this rough life of sackcloth to the pleasures and enjoyments of the palace?”

When the man of God heard these words, he made reply, at once courteous and unruffled: “If it be thy pleasure, O king, to converse with me, remove thine enemies out of mid court; which done, I will answer thee concerning whatsoever thou mayest desire to learn; for while these are here, I cannot speak with thee. But, without speech, torment me, kill me, do as thou wilt, for ‘the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world,’ as saith my divine teacher.” The king said, “And who are these enemies whom thou biddest me turn out of court?” The saintly man answered and said, “Anger and Desire. For at the beginning these twain were brought into being by the Creator to be fellow-workers with nature; and such they still are to those ‘who walk not after the flesh but after the Spirit.’ But in you who are altogether carnal, having nothing of the Spirit, they are adversaries, and play the part of enemies and foemen. For Desire, working in you, stirreth up pleasure, but, when made of none effect, Anger. Today therefore let these be banished from thee, and let Wisdom and Righteousness sit to hear and judge that which we say. For if thou put Anger and Desire out of court, and in their room bring in Wisdom and Righteousness, I will truthfully tell thee all.” Then spake the king, “Lo I yield to thy request, and will banish out of the assembly both Desire and Anger, and make Wisdom and Righteousness to sit between us. So now, tell me without fear, how wast thou so greatly taken with this error, to prefer the bird in the bush to the bird already in the hand?”

The hermit answered and said, “O king, if thou askest the cause how I came to despise things temporal, and to devote my whole self to the hope of things eternal, hearken unto me. In former days, when I was still but a stripling, I heard a certain good and wholesome saying, which, by its force took my soul by storm; and the remembrance of it, like some divine seed, being planted in my heart, unmoved, was preserved ever until it took root, blossomed, and bare that fruit which thou seest in me. Now the meaning of that sentence was this: ‘It seemed good to the foolish to despise the things that are, as though they were not, and to cleave and cling to the things that are not, as though they were. So he, that hath never tasted the sweetness of the things that are, will not be able to understand the nature of the things that are not. And never having understood them, how shall he despise them?’ Now that saying meant by ‘things that are’ the things eternal and fixed, but by ‘things that are not’ earthly life, luxury, false prosperity, and glory, whereon, O king, thine heart alas! is fixed amiss. Time was when I also clung thereto myself. But the force of that sentence continually goading my heart, stirred my governing power, my mind, to make the better choice. But ‘the law of sin, warring against the law of my mind,’ and binding me, as with iron chains, held me captive to the love of things present.

“But ‘after that the kindness and love of God our Saviour’ was pleased to deliver me from that harsh captivity, he enabled my mind to overcome the law of sin, and opened mine eyes to discern good from evil. Thereupon I perceived and looked, and behold! all things present are vanity and vexation of spirit, as somewhere in his writings saith Solomon the wise. Then was the veil of sin lifted from mine heart, and the dullness, proceeding from the grossness of my body, which pressed upon my soul, was scattered, and I perceived the end for which I was created, and how that it behoved me to move upward to my Creator by the keeping of his Commandments. Wherefore I left all and followed him, and I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord that he delivered me out of the mire, and from the making of bricks, and from the harsh and deadly ruler of the darkness of this world, and that he showed me the short and easy road whereby I shall be able, in this earthen body, eagerly to embrace the Angelic life. Seeking to attain to it the sooner, I chose to walk the strait and narrow way, renouncing the vanity of things present and the unstable changes and chances thereof, and refusing to call anything good except the true good, from which thou, O king, art miserably sundered and alienated. Wherefore also we ourselves were alienated and separated from thee, because thou wert falling into plain and manifest destruction, and wouldst constrain us also to descend into like peril. But as long as we were tried in the warfare of this world, we failed in no point of duty. Thou thyself will bear me witness that we were never charged with sloth or heedlessness.

“But when thou hast endeavoured to rob us of the chiefest of all blessings, our religion, and to deprive us of God, the worst of deprivations, and, in this intent, dost remind us of past honours and preferments, how should I not rightly tax thee with ignorance of good, seeing that thou dost at all compare these two things, righteousness toward God, and human friendship, and glory, that runneth apace like water? And how, in such case, may we have fellowship with thee, and not the rather deny ourselves friendship and honours and love of children, and if there be any other tie greater than these? When we see thee, O king, the rather forgetting thy reverence toward that God, who giveth thee the power to live and breathe, Christ Jesus, the Lord of all; who, being alike without beginning, and coeternal with the Father, and having created the heavens and the earth by his word, made man with his own hands and endowed him with immortality, and set him king of all on earth and assigned him Paradise, the fairest place of all, as his royal dwelling. But man, beguiled by envy, and (woe is me!) caught by the bait of pleasure, miserably fell from all these blessings. So he that once was enviable became a piteous spectacle, and by his misfortune deserving of tears. Wherefore he, that had made and fashioned us, looked again with eyes of compassion upon the work of his own hands. He, not laying aside his Godhead, which he had from the beginning, was made man for our sakes, like ourselves, but without sin, and was content to suffer death upon the Cross. He overthrew the foeman that from the beginning had looked with malice on our race; he rescued us from that bitter captivity; he, of his goodness, restored to us our former freedom, and, of his tender love towards mankind, raised us up again to that place from whence by our disobedience we had fallen, granting us even greater honour than at the first.

“Him therefore, who endured such sufferings for our sakes, and again bestowed such blessings upon us, him dost thou reject and scoff at his Cross? And, thyself wholly riveted to carnal delights and deadly passions, dost thou proclaim the idols of shame and dishonour gods? Not only hast thou alienated thyself from the commonwealth of heavenly felicity but thou hast also severed from the same all others who obey thy commands, to the peril of their souls. Know therefore that I will not obey thee, nor join thee in such ingratitude to God-ward; neither will I deny my benefactor and Saviour, though thou slay me by wild beasts, or give me to the fire and sword, as thou hast the power. For I neither fear death, nor desire the present world, having passed judgement on the frailty and vanity thereof. For what is there profitable, abiding or stable therein? Nay, in very existence, great is the misery, great the pain, great and ceaseless the attendant care. Of its gladness and enjoyment the yoke-fellows are dejection and pain. Its riches is poverty; its loftiness die lowest humiliation; and who shall tell the full tale of its miseries, which Saint John the Divine hath shown me in few words? For he saith, ‘The whole world lieth in wickedness’; and, ‘Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. For all that is in the world is the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life. And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof, but he that doeth the will of God abideth forever.’ Seeking, then, this good will of God, I have forsaken everything, and joined myself to those who possess the same desire, and seek after the same God. Amongst these there is no strife or envy, sorrow or care, but all run the like race that they may obtain those everlasting habitations which the Father of lights hath prepared for them that love him. Them have I gained for my fathers, my brothers, my friends and mine acquaintances. But from my former friends and brethren ‘I have got me away far off, and lodged in the wilderness’ waiting for the God, who saveth me from faintness of spirit, and from the stormy tempest.”

When the man of God had made answer thus gently and in good reason, the king was stirred by anger, and was minded cruelly to torment the saint; but again he hesitated and delayed, regarding his venerable and noble mien. So he answered and said:

“Unhappy man, that hast contrived thine own utter ruin, driven thereto, I ween, by fate, surely thou hast made thy tongue as sharp as thy wits. Hence thou hast uttered these vain and ambiguous babblings. Had I not promised, at the beginning of our converse, to banish Anger from mid court, I had now given thy body to be burned. But since thou hast prevented and tied me down fast by my words, I bear with thine effrontery, by reason of my former friendship with thee. Now, arise, and flee forever from my sight, lest I see thee again and miserably destroy thee.”

So the man of God went out and withdrew to the desert, grieved to have lost the crown of martyrdom, but daily a martyr in his conscience, and “wrestling against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness”; as saith Blessed Paul. But after his departure, the king waxed yet more wroth, and devised a yet fiercer persecution of the monastic order, while treating with greater honour the ministers and temple-keepers of his idols.

While the king was under this terrible delusion and error, there was born unto him a son, a right goodly child, whose beauty from his very birth was prophetic of his future fortunes. Nowhere in that land, they said, had there ever been seen so charming and lovely a babe. Full of the keenest joy at the birth of the child, the king called him Ioasaph,5 and in his folly went in person to the temples of his idols, for to do sacrifice and offer hymns of praise to his still more foolish gods, unaware of the real giver of all good things, to whom he should have offered the spiritual sacrifice. He then, ascribing the cause of his son’s birth to things lifeless and dumb, sent out into all quarters to gather the people together to celebrate his son’s birthday: and thou mightest have seen all the folk running together for fear of the king, and bringing their offerings ready for the sacrifice, according to the store at each man’s hand, and his favour toward his lord. But chiefly the king stirred them up to emulation. He brought full many oxen, of goodly size, for sacrifice, and thus, making a feast for all his people, he bestowed largesses on all his counsellors and officers, and on all his soldiers, and all the poor, and men of low degree.

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