Letters 10–24

To a free woman. There is a certain art of catching doves, which goes like this. When those who pursue such things get hold of one, they make it tame and accustomed to eat with them; then, anointing its wings with perfume, they let it flock with those outside. And the fragrance of that perfume makes the free flock the property of the owner of the tame one; for the others follow the sweet scent and come to settle in the cote. Why do I begin my letter like this? Because I have taken your son Dionysius, formerly Diomedes, and, anointing the wings of his soul with the divine perfume, I have sent him to your Reverence, so that you yourself may fly up with him and reach the nest that he has built with us. If, then, I should see this in my lifetime, and your Reverence moved to the lofty life, I shall need many persons worthy of God to pay him the honor that is due.

Without address, on friendship. Having spent the holy day by the grace of God with our children, and having kept a truly perfect feast to the Lord because of their exceeding love toward God, we have sent them on in good health to your Nobility, praying God, the lover of mankind, that a peaceful angel may be given them as helper and fellow traveler, and that they may find you in health and in every peaceful condition; so that wherever you may be, serving the Lord and giving thanks to him, you may gladden us, as long as we are in the world, with news of you. And if the holy God grants that you be freed from these cares sooner, we urge you to prefer nothing to life with us. For I think you will not find others who love you so much and lay such claim to your friendship. So, as long as the Holy One orders this separation, deign to comfort us with letters on every occasion.

To Olympius. Formerly you wrote us a little, and now not even a little; and it seems that your brevity, advancing with time, is becoming complete silence. Return, then, to your habit, and we shall no longer blame you for speaking Laconically to us in your letters; indeed, we shall value even short letters highly, as tokens of your great affection. Only write to us.

To Olympius. As each of the other things in season comes at its own time, flowers in spring, ears of grain in summer, and the apple in autumn, so words are the fruit of winter.

To Gregory his companion. 1. When my brother Gregory wrote to me that he had long wished to meet us, and added that you too had decided on the same thing, I could not wait, partly because, having often been deceived, I am slow to believe, and partly because I am distracted by business. For I must now set out for Pontus, where perhaps one day, God willing, we shall put an end to our wandering. For having at last given up the vain hopes I once had of you, or rather the dreams, to speak more truly (for I praise the man who said that hopes are the dreams of the waking), I went off to Pontus in search of a way of life. There God showed me a spot exactly suited to my way of life, so that I actually saw such a place as we have often been accustomed to fashion in our imagination when idle and playing. 2. There is a high mountain, covered with deep forest, watered on its northern side by cool, clear streams. At its foot lies a level plain, continually enriched by the moisture from the mountain. A forest of varied and manifold trees, growing round it of its own accord, almost serves it as a fence, so that even Calypso's island, which Homer evidently admired above all others for its beauty, is small beside it. For indeed it falls not far short of being an island, since it is enclosed on every side by barriers. Deep ravines have broken away around it on two sides, and on the flank the river, flowing beneath a precipice, is itself a continuous and hard-to-cross wall. And since the mountain extends on the other side, joined to the ravines by crescent-shaped spurs, it walls off the passable parts of the lower slope. There is one entrance to it, of which we are masters. The dwelling is set on another neck of land, which holds up a high ridge at its summit, so that this plain is spread out before the eyes, and from the height one can look down on the river flowing around, which gives, to my mind at least, no less delight than the Strymon gives to those who view it from Amphipolis. For the Strymon, spreading into a pool with its more leisurely current, has almost lost the very character of a river through its stillness; but this one, flowing more swiftly than any river I know, is roughened a little against the neighboring rock, and, thrown back from it, rolls round into a deep eddy, offering a most pleasant sight to me and to every onlooker, and a most sufficient resource to the inhabitants, as it nourishes an untold number of fish in its eddies. What need is there to speak of the exhalations from the earth, or the breezes from the river? Another might admire the abundance of flowers or of songbirds; but I have no leisure to turn my mind to these. But the greatest thing we can say of the spot is that, while it is suited to the production of every kind of fruit because of the favorableness of its position, it nourishes for me the sweetest of all fruits, quiet; not only because it is free from the tumult of the city, but because it does not bring us even a traveler, except those who join us for the hunt. For besides its other qualities it also nourishes wild beasts, not bears or wolves like yours, heaven forbid, but it pastures herds of deer and wild goats, and hares, and whatever is like them. Do you not consider, then, what a danger I, fool that I was, escaped when I was eager to exchange such a spot for Tiberina, the pit of the inhabited world? Forgive me, then, as I now hasten to it. For not even Alcmaeon, when he had found the Echinades, would endure further wandering.

To Arcadius, count of the privy purse. The citizens of our metropolis have given a greater favor than they received, by giving me occasion to write to your Honor. For the kindness for which they received the letter from us was theirs even before our letter, because of the gentleness toward all that is habitual and natural to you; while we have counted the occasion of addressing your incomparable goodness the greatest gain, praying the holy God that, as you advance in pleasing him and your renown grows ever greater, we may ourselves rejoice with you and share the joy of those who are benefited by your administration; and that you may also look kindly on those who hand you our letter and send them away, with all the rest, singing the praises of your gentleness, having learned once more that our intercession with your unsurpassed goodness has not been useless to them.

To Eunomius the heretic. He who says that the discovery of realities is attainable has surely advanced his mind by some road and sequence through the knowledge of realities; and, having trained himself on what is easily grasped and smaller by comprehending it, has so advanced his power of comprehension even to what is beyond every thought. So let the one who boasts of having grasped the knowledge of realities explain the smallest of the things that appear, of what nature it is; let him say what the nature of the ant is: whether its life is held together by breath and respiration; whether its body is divided by bones; whether its joints are braced by sinews and ligaments; whether the position of its sinews is held in place by a covering of muscles and glands; whether the marrow extends along the vertebrae of the spine from the crown to the tail; whether, by the enveloping sinewy membrane, it gives the power of impulse to the moving limbs; whether it has a liver, and a gall bladder on the liver; kidneys and heart, arteries and veins, membranes and diaphragms; whether it is smooth or hairy; whether it has a single hoof or divided feet; how long it lives, and what is their manner of generation from one another; how long the offspring is carried; and how it is that ants are neither all walkers nor all winged, but some belong to those that go on the ground and others are borne through the air. Let the one who boasts of knowledge of realities first tell the nature of the ant, and then let him discourse on the nature of the power that surpasses all understanding. But if you have not yet grasped with your knowledge the being of the tiny ant, how do you boast of conceiving the incomprehensible power of God?

To Origenes. It gladdens us both to hear of you and to read you, and through what you write you give us more vivid joys. And many thanks to the good God, who has not let the truth be diminished by the betrayal of those who seem to have the upper hand, but through you has supplied the defense of the doctrine of godliness. They, like hemlock or aconite or any other deadly herb, after flowering for a little while, will quickly wither. But to you the Lord will give a reward ever blooming and ever new for what has been spoken on behalf of his name. Therefore may the Lord grant your house every prosperity and pass on the blessing to your children's children. Your most noble children, clear impressions of your goodness, I saw with pleasure and embraced, and I pray for them all that their father himself would pray.

To Macarius and John. The labors of farming do not surprise farmers, nor is the storm at sea unexpected to sailors, nor is summer sweat strange to hired laborers, nor indeed are the afflictions of this present world unforeseen by those who have chosen to live godly lives. But to each of the occupations mentioned, a proper and familiar labor is joined for those who pursue it, chosen not for its own sake but for the enjoyment of the good things expected. For hopes, holding together and supporting the whole life of men, soften the hardship of each of these. Now of those who labor for the fruits of the earth, or on the earth, some have been entirely cheated of their hopes, having the enjoyment of what they expected only in imagination; and those whose end turned out according to their wish needed again a second hope, since the first had quickly passed and faded. Only for those who have toiled for godliness has no falsehood destroyed their hopes, no end spoiled their contests, since the kingdom of heaven, sure and abiding, takes their place. So do not let false slander trouble you, nor the threat of rulers frighten you; do not let the laughter and insult of acquaintances grieve you, nor condemnation from those who pretend to care for you, putting forward the pretense of advice as the strongest bait for deception, as long as the word of truth fights on our side. Let right reason contend against them all, calling on the teacher of godliness, our Lord Jesus Christ, to be its ally and helper, for whose sake even suffering is sweet and to die is gain.

To Gregory his companion. A letter came to me lately from you, unmistakably yours, not so much by the character of the handwriting as by the peculiar style of the letter. For the words were few, but they conveyed much meaning. We did not reply to it at once, because we ourselves were away, and the letter carrier, having handed the letter to one of our friends, went off. But now we address you through Peter, at once paying the debt of a greeting and giving occasion for a second letter. Surely there is no labor in a Laconic letter, such as those are that come to us from you on every occasion.

To Leontius the sophist. Our letters to you are slow in coming; yet not slower than those from your side, and this although many people have come to us from your parts one after another. If you had given letters to all of them in turn, nothing would have prevented our seeming to be with you ourselves and enjoying you as if we were present and in your company, so continuous was the stream of those arriving here. But why do you not write? Surely writing is no labor for a sophist; or rather, if your hand is idle, you will not even need to write, for another will serve you. Only your tongue is needed; and even if it does not converse with us, it will certainly talk to one of your companions; and if no one is present, it will converse with itself; but it will never be silent, being a sophist's tongue and Attic, any more than the nightingales are when spring rouses them to song. For us, the press of business in which we now are might perhaps furnish an excuse for our lack of letters; and the fact that we have, as it were, been soiled by long familiarity with common speech naturally makes us shrink from addressing you sophists, who, unless you hear something worthy of your own wisdom, will be annoyed and will not bear it. But for you, on the contrary, it is surely fitting to publish your voice on every pretext, since you are the most capable speaker of all the Greeks I know, and I know, I think, the most famous among you; so there is no excuse for your silence. So much for that. I have also sent you my work against Eunomius. Whether it should be called child's play or something a little more serious than child's play I leave you to judge. For your own sake, I think, you no longer need it; but against the perverse people you meet, I expect it will be no ignoble weapon for you; not that we trust so much in the strength of the treatise, but we know well that from slight starting points you are inventive of much. If anything in it seems to you weaker than it should be, do not hesitate to expose it. For in this above all a friend differs from a flatterer: the one converses to give pleasure, the other does not hold back even from what gives pain.

… fourfold has been preferred. For not even the Pythagoreans valued the tetractys as highly as those who now collect the public taxes value the fourfold. And yet perhaps the opposite would have been fitting: that you, a sophist with such abundant wealth of words, should be liable to us for repayment fourfold. And do not think that we write this in annoyance. For I rejoice even in your reproaches, since they say that with the beautiful everything comes with the addition of beauty, so that even griefs and angers become them. At any rate one would more gladly see the one he loves angry than flattering another. So never stop bringing such charges. For the charges themselves will be letters, and there is nothing I hear that is more precious to me or brings more pleasure.

On the perfection of the life of monks. 1. Of the many things shown by the divinely inspired Scripture that must be accomplished by those eager to please God, I have felt it necessary to speak for the present, by way of brief reminder, only of those that have now been raised among you, as I have learned them from the divinely inspired Scripture itself, leaving the testimony about each, which is easy to find, for those occupied with reading to recognize, who will be able to remind others as well. That the Christian must think thoughts worthy of the heavenly calling, and live worthily of the gospel of Christ. That the Christian must not be distracted, nor drawn away by anything from the remembrance of God and of his will and judgments. That the Christian, having become in all things superior to the righteous requirements of the law, must neither swear nor lie. That one must not speak evil; that one must not insult; that one must not quarrel; that one must not avenge oneself; that one must not return evil for evil; that one must not be angry. That one must be long-suffering, whatever one suffers, and rebuke the wrongdoer at the right time, not in a passion for one's own vengeance, but in a desire for the brother's correction, according to the Lord's commandment. That one must not say anything against an absent brother with the aim of slandering him, which is backbiting, even if what is said is true. That one must turn away from the one who backbites a brother. That one must not utter jests. That one must not laugh, nor put up with jesters. That one must not talk idly, saying something that neither benefits the hearers nor serves the necessary use permitted to us by God; so that those who work should be eager, as far as possible, to work in quiet, and good words themselves should be put to them by those who have been entrusted, after testing, with administering the word for the building up of the faith, so that the Holy Spirit of God may not be grieved. That none of those who come in should approach any of the brothers or speak with him on his own authority, before those appointed to care for good order in all things have tested how it pleases God for the common good. That one must not be enslaved to wine, nor be passionate about meat; and in general not be a lover of pleasure in any food or drink; for every contender exercises self-control in all things. That of the things given to each for use, one must not hold anything as one's own or store it up; but, in one's care, attending to all as belonging to the Master, one must not overlook anything that may happen to be thrown aside or neglected. That no one must be his own master, but, as one handed over by God into the service of his like-minded brothers, so must he both think and do everything, each in his own order. 2. That one must not grumble, either in scarcity of necessities or in the weariness of work, since those appointed with authority over these things have the judgment about each. That there must be no shouting, nor any other gesture or movement by which anger is characterized, or distraction from the full assurance that God is present. That one must measure the voice to the need. That one must not answer anyone or do anything boldly or contemptuously, but show reasonableness and respect toward all in everything. That one must not wink the eye with guile, or use any other gesture or movement of a limb that grieves a brother or shows contempt. That one must not adorn oneself in clothes or shoes, which is vanity. That one must use cheap things for the needs of the body. That one must spend nothing beyond need and for extravagance, which is misuse. That one must not seek honor or lay claim to the first places. That each must prefer all others to himself. That one must not be insubordinate. That one who is able to work must not eat in idleness; but even one who is occupied with some task done for the glory of Christ must force himself to diligence in work as far as he can. That each must, with the approval of those set over him, do everything with reason and full assurance, down to eating and drinking itself, as done for the glory of God. That one must not move from one work to another without the approval of those appointed to arrange such matters, unless perhaps some unavoidable need suddenly calls someone to the help of one who has failed. That each must remain in that to which he was appointed, and not, overstepping his own measure, intrude on what has not been assigned to him, unless those entrusted with these matters judge that someone needs help. That no one must be found going from one workshop to another. That one must not do anything out of rivalry or strife with anyone. 3. That one must not envy another's good repute, nor rejoice at anyone's failings. That one must, in the love of Christ, grieve and be broken at a brother's failings, and rejoice at his good deeds. That one must not be indifferent to those who sin, or keep silent toward them. That the one who rebukes must rebuke with all tenderness, in the fear of God, and with the aim of turning the sinner back. That the one who is rebuked or reproved must accept it readily, recognizing his own benefit in the correction. That when someone is being accused, another must not contradict the accuser in his presence or that of others. But if the charge ever seems unreasonable to someone, he should raise the matter privately with the accuser, and either convince or be convinced. That each must, as far as he can, conciliate the one who has something against him. That one must not bear a grudge against one who has sinned and repents, but forgive from the heart. That the one who says he repents of a sin must not only be pricked at heart for what he has sinned, but also bring forth fruits worthy of repentance. That the one who has been corrected for his first sins and been granted forgiveness, if he sins again, prepares for himself a judgment of wrath worse than the first. That the one who, after the first and second admonition, persists in his failing must be made known to the one set over the community, in case, being reproved by more, he may be ashamed. But if he is not corrected even so, he must be cut off from the rest as a cause of stumbling, and regarded as a Gentile and a tax collector, for the safety of those who work at the zeal of obedience, according to the saying, “When the ungodly fall, the righteous become afraid.” But one must also mourn over him as over a limb cut off from the body. That one must not let the sun go down on a brother's anger, lest the night separate the two and leave at the day of judgment an inescapable charge. That one must not wait for an occasion for one's own correction, because there is no security about tomorrow; for many who made many plans did not reach tomorrow. That one must not be deceived by filling the belly, through which come visions of the night. That one must not be distracted by immoderate work and overstep the bounds of sufficiency, according to the Apostle, who said, “Having food and covering, with these we shall be content”; because abundance beyond need displays an image of greed, and greed carries the sentence of idolatry. That one must not be a lover of money, nor store up for no use what one ought not. That the one who draws near to God must embrace poverty in all things, and be nailed to the fear of God, according to him who said, “Nail my flesh with the fear of you, for I am afraid of your judgments.” May the Lord grant that you, having received what has been said with all full assurance, may show fruits worthy of the Spirit to the glory of God, by the good pleasure of God and the cooperation of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Commendatory letter to a solitary. So-and-so, as he says, having condemned the vanity of this life and learned that the delights of this life have their end here, preparing only fuel for the eternal fire and passing quickly, has come to me, wishing to withdraw from this toilsome and much-lamented life, to leave the pleasures of the flesh, and henceforth to enter on the road that leads to the dwellings of the Lord. Since, then, if he truly is set on desiring the really blessed life, and has the good and praiseworthy love in his soul, having loved the Lord our God with all his heart, all his strength, and all his mind, it is necessary that the hardships and difficulties of the narrow and afflicted way be shown him by your Godliness, and that he be established in the hope of the good things not yet seen but laid up in the promises for those worthy of the Lord, I therefore write and urge your perfection in Christ, which has no equal, to shape him, if possible, and without me to carry out his renunciation as pleases God, and to have him instructed in the elements according to what was decided by the holy Fathers and set out by them in writing; and then to set before him all that belongs to ascetic strictness, and so to bring him into the life, having freely undertaken the contests for godliness and placed himself under the kindly yoke of the Lord, living in imitation of him who became poor for our sake and bore flesh, and running toward the goal for the prize of the upward call, that he may obtain the Lord's approval. For though he was eager to receive here the crown of love according to God, I put him off, wishing, together with your Godliness, to anoint him for such contests, and to set over him as trainer whichever one of you he himself may seek, who will train him well and make him a proven wrestler by his intense and blessed care, wounding and throwing down the world ruler of the darkness of this age, and …

To Athanasius, the father of Athanasius bishop of Ancyra. That for a man's life to be above slanders is among the hardest things, not to say among the impossible, I myself am convinced, and I think your Goodness does not doubt it. But to give no handle of one's own making, either to those who watch affairs closely or to those who lie in wait spitefully for our slips, this is both possible and characteristic of those who lead their life wisely and with the aim of godliness. Do not suppose us so easygoing or so easily led as to admit without examination the accusations of any chance person. For we remember the spiritual precept that bids us not to receive an empty report. Nevertheless, since you yourselves who are devoted to letters say that what appears is a sign of what does not appear, we ask this (and do not take it ill if something is said by us in the form of teaching, for God has chosen the weak and despised things of the world, and through them often arranges the salvation of those who are being saved): what I say and urge is this, that every word and every fitting action be carried out with circumspection, and, according to the apostolic precept, that we give no offense in anything. For I consider it fitting that the life of a man who has toiled much in the learning of letters, who has governed nations and cities, and who is zealous for the great virtue of his ancestors, should be set forth as an example of virtue. As for your disposition toward your children, you ought to show it now not by word, as indeed you showed it long ago, from the time you became a father, using not only the natural affection that even irrational creatures show to their offspring, as you yourself said and experience shows; you ought also to intensify your love, plainly by choice, in proportion as you see them to be such as are worthy of a father's prayers. So it is not we who need to be persuaded about these things, for the testimony of the facts themselves is sufficient. This, however, it is not out of place to add for truth's sake, that it is not our brother Timothy the chorepiscopus who brought us the rumors. For he does not appear, either in conversation or by letter, to have said anything, small or great, that amounted to slander about you. So we do not deny that we have heard something, but it was not Timothy who contrived the slanders against you. But when we hear, we shall at least do what Alexander did, if nothing else: we shall keep one of our ears unprejudiced for the one slandered.