Complete Works of Saint Ephrem the Syrian, Volume 3

Each of these points, although they incite me incredibly toward this task—for which I see my own ability is not quite equal—nevertheless, this thought finally impelled and almost carried me away: that I might hope my vigils and labors would not be ungrateful to BENEDICT XIV, a truly Supreme Pontiff. For besides the fact that he receives with royal benevolence all Orientals, and Maronites in particular, to whom he has more than once offered testimonies of his most benevolent will, I was not unaware that no greater pleasure is presented to him than to see men avid to join the praises of virtue with those of doctrine. This is the one thing he himself has been accustomed to pursue so studiously in every state of life that nothing so honorable can be said of him but that his own wisdom and virtue have long since surpassed it. Those outstanding volumes are placed before the eyes of all, to which are attributed such praises by every most learned man that it is better to omit them entirely than to recount them with less than their due dignity. For his writings contain not just one faculty or another, but the whole order of the liberal arts and disciplines, joined by a kind of golden chain, shines forth. This is true whether you look at Civil and Pontifical Law, where you see many of its parts and most weighty passages treated and explained in a marvelous way; or whether you pursue the doctrine of Sacred Scripture and ancient discipline, you see those books not merely sprinkled, but filled with arguments drawn from them; or whether you inquire into history and manifold erudition, you confess that a certain divine knowledge resides in BENEDICT XIV, which comprehends the knowledge of all the greatest things most cumulatively. As for his virtues, I am not the one who can offer an oration equal to them. In him, we see joined to the most distinguished praises of genius the highest loftiness of mind, moderation, clemency, affability, and, in short, supreme piety toward God and supreme mercy toward men, and in a word, whatever we call decorous, whatever we desire in the best of Pontiffs. Therefore, it is not without cause that I considered this rough work of mine not at all unworthy of such a great Pontiff, since I turned the writings into Latin, from which the Republic of Letters, as well as the Christian Republic, could reap no common fruit.

But indeed, even if all these things were of the highest weight and moment, I might perhaps never have undertaken this arduous duty, MOST AMPLIFIED CARDINAL, had not your authority and singular wisdom added spirit and spurs to me. For the authority of your dignity holds such a place with me that I must obey not only your commands but even your nods, because you are both the supreme Librarian of the Holy Roman Church and a Prince who is both a most beloved man of all the learned and, by the best of rights, to be compared with the most literary men of all ancient and recent memory. For who, to say nothing of the height of your mind or your genius, born for any outstanding thing—who is unaware that nothing has ever been able to divert you from the praises of wisdom? Born of a family that, in antiquity, splendor, breadth, and nobility, contends for the palm of honor with the primary families of Italy, and which is filled with wealth and power and all things with which those who are thought blessed abound; yet, while still a youth, by a certain divine magnanimity of spirit, judging that nothing in such light and abundance of things was worthy of admiration except the glory of one's ancestors, and especially those who had been distinguished in every kind of learning, you emulated the generous spirits of the Romans, whom I hear from Sallust were accustomed to say, when they gazed upon the images of their ancestors, that their spirits were most vehemently kindled toward virtue, and that the flame of the memory of achievements grew in an excellent breast, and did not settle until they had equaled their fame and glory through their own virtue. This you first began to attempt at Brescia in the College of Nobles, where you used your genius as was fitting, and progressed in the humanistic arts not only with interest but even with compound interest original: "anatocismo". For you seemed not to take these things from others, but to bring them forth and beget them from yourself. And it is no wonder, indeed, since you were second to none in genius and had seized that love of virtue from nature itself, which virtue would excite if it were seen, as Plato most excellently says. It is not without cause, therefore, that all things were expected of you that can be expected from a truly golden character. You, indeed, surpassed the expectation of all, because you far surpassed yourself, namely your own youth and condition. So that nothing of the love of virtue would be detracted by domestic wealth or the allurements of flatterers, of whom there is a great crowd among Princes, you looked toward Heaven like a generous bird, bade farewell to your father’s house, and flew to where Divine Wisdom bade you proceed, and as a youth offered yourself to be adopted by the Cassinese family. Here, indeed, there is no one who can recount your praises with sufficient dignity or say more than Florence, the eye of Italy and a most august sanctuary of the Muses, retains in its memory. It will be enough to mention those most excellent names: the Buonarrotis, the Salvinis, the Averanis, the Magalottis, and many others, with whom that blessed city has always abounded, most learned men, whose grace and benevolence you won in a short time. This must certainly be the proof that the fame of your integrity and learning was such that it could hardly be judged whether you were better or more prudent. For