PREFACE OF DESIDERIUS ERASMUS TO THE NEW TESTAMENT.

Tom. VI. * 3

...God’s commands are set aside because of human regulations. The leaders of the Apostles, Peter and Paul, lament this in so many places. Now things have reached such a point that one is not even allowed to complain. The world is full of preachers, yet the greatest part of them preach human ideas instead of divine ones. Their goal is not the glory of Christ, but profit, a life of pleasure, or some wealthy Bishopric or a well-fed Abbey. These things are now done openly, and in the name of the Gospel. They flatter the great and powerful while neglecting the thin and humble. They trample the latter, while instilling flattering ideas into the former instead of soul-saving truths. Today, it is no safer to offer those pure veins of Christ to a thirsty people—who have long since grown weary of the inventions of mortals—than it once was in the time of Nero. Erasmus compares the religious censors of his day to the Roman Emperor Nero, known for persecuting early Christians. The cause lies with the False Apostles, who serve their own bellies and not Jesus Christ.

But I prefer to set aside these complaints (justified though they are) and instead urge Christians to bring pure minds to the purest fountains of Christ, thirsting for nothing other than that doctrine which makes us worthy of Christ as our teacher. He will not fail those who try. Once we have tasted the liquid of this vein, and once we have tasted how sweet the Lord is, sophisticated original: "sophistica"; here referring to the overly complex Scholastic theology of the Middle Ages. doctrine will turn into nausea, and we shall never be able to be torn away from Him. Instead, we shall say with the disciples: Lord, where shall we go? You have the words of life. John 6:68.

In this work, we have devoted our effort to repairing the channels and cleansing the vessels, so that the water might flow a little more clearly and be somewhat more convenient to draw. For it is only right that what is prepared equally for everyone should be easy to access. I do not know if I should warn you again, seeing as I see this song is being sung to deaf ears An ancient proverb meaning to waste one's breath. who, like asps, deliberately plug their ears so they do not hear the voice of the one charming them toward better things. What we found in the corrected Greek manuscripts, we have translated into Latin, preserving as much as possible the simple elegance of the Roman tongue. Therefore, if anything sounds different from the Old Edition The "Vulgate," the standard Latin Bible of the time., readers should not immediately think it has been attacked by us; let them first consult our annotations, and then follow what seems best. At the very least, let them show enough modesty not to condemn what they do not know—work which has already been approved more than once by the supreme pastor of the Church, Leo the Tenth.

Farewell.

THE PARACLESIS OF DESIDERIUS ERASMUS OF ROTTERDAM,

THAT IS, AN EXHORTATION TO THE STUDY OF CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHY.

That famous Lactantius Firmianus A 4th-century Christian author nicknamed the "Christian Cicero" for his style., best reader, whose tongue Jerome admired above all others, wished for eloquence nearly equal to Cicero's when he set out to defend the Christian religion against the Pagans. He thought it wicked, I suppose, to wish for eloquence that was exactly equal. But for my part, if such prayers achieve anything, I would vehemently wish that an eloquence be given to me—as I urge all mortals toward the most holy and healthy study of Christian Philosophy, sounding the battle-signal as it were—that is far different from Cicero's. If mine were less ornate than his, let it certainly be much more effective.

Indeed, I wish for a power of speaking such as the fables of the ancient poets (not without cause) attributed to Mercury: who with his magic wand and divine lyre brings sleep when he wishes and takes it away, driving those he wants to the underworld and calling them back again. Or such as they attributed to Amphion and Orpheus, one of whom was said to move hard rocks and the other to draw oaks and mountain ashes with his lyre. Or like that which the Gauls attributed to their Ogmius The "Gallic Hercules," often depicted leading a crowd by chains attached from his tongue to their ears, symbolizing the power of eloquence., leading all mortals about by little chains fixed from his tongue to their ears. Or like the power the fables of antiquity gave to Marsyas. Or certainly—not to dwell too long on fables—the power Alcibiades attributed to Socrates, or which the Old Comedy attributed to Pericles: a power that does not merely stroke the ears with a pleasure that soon fades, but one that leaves tenacious stings in the minds of the listeners—one that ravishes, transforms, and sends away a listener far different from the one it received.

We read that the noble musician Timotheus, playing in the Dorian mode, used to inflame Alexander the Great with a passion for war. Nor were there lacking those in the past who thought nothing was more effective than charms, which the Greeks call ἐπωδὰς incantations or spells. But if there were ever any such kind of incantation, if there were any power of harmony that possessed true ἐνθουσιασμὸν divine inspiration or enthusiasm, or if there were any truly heart-swaying Persuasion, I would desire it to be at my disposal now, so that I might persuade everyone of the most healthy thing of all.

And yet, it is better to wish that Christ himself, whose business this is, would so tune the strings of our lyre that this song might deeply affect and move the minds of all. To achieve this, there is no need for the clever arguments or flourishes of rhetoricians. Nothing can provide what we desire more surely than Truth itself, whose speech is more effective the simpler it is.

And first, I do not wish at this moment to reopen that old complaint—not entirely new, but alas, too justified, and I know not if it was ever more justified than in these times. While mortals apply themselves with such burning passion to their own individual studies, this one "Philosophy of Christ" is laughed at by some even among Christians, neglected by most, and handled by only a few (and then coldly, not to say insincerely). Yet in all other disciplines produced by human industry, there is nothing so hidden or remote that the sagacity of the human mind has not tracked it down; nothing so difficult that relentless labor has not conquered it.

How does it happen, then, that we—as many of us as profess the name of Christ even by our very title—do not embrace this one Philosophy with the spirit it deserves? Platonists, Pythagoreans, Academics, Stoics, Cynics, Peripatetics, and Epicureans all know the dogmas of their own sect intimately and hold them in their memory; they fight for them, ready to die rather than desert the defense of their author. Why do we not show a much greater spirit for our author and prince, Christ? Who would not think it utterly foul for someone professing Aristotelian philosophy to be ignorant of what that man thought about the causes of lightning, about primary matter, or about the infinite? These are things that make one neither happy when known nor unhappy when ignored. And yet we, initiated in so many ways and bound to Christ by so many sacraments, do not think it foul or shameful to be ignorant of His dogmas, which provide certain happiness to all?

What is the point of exaggerating the matter with debate here, since it is a mark of impious madness even to want to compare Christ with Zeno or Aristotle, or His doctrine with their "little rules" (to put it modestly)? Let them attribute as much as they want or can to the leaders of their own sects. Certainly, He alone is the teacher who came from heaven; He alone could teach certain truths, being eternal wisdom; He alone, the unique author of human salvation, taught things that lead to health; He alone perfectly practiced whatever He taught; He alone can provide whatever He promised. If something is brought to us from the Chaldeans or Egyptians, we long to know it all the more eagerly because it has been brought from a foreign world—the fact that it came from far away is part of its value. Often we are anxiously distorted by the dreams of some little man (not to say impostor), not only with no fruit, but with a great loss of time—to say nothing more serious, though this itself is most serious. How is it then that a similar desire does not tickle Christian souls...