Letters 2.74–2.92

To Heraclides the bishop. When, in the reign of Hezekiah, the barbarian came against Jerusalem leading all Persia, and a wonderful and divine trophy was set up, more famous than any ever raised before, then on Hezekiah, who was puffed up and in his joy thought higher than befits a man, the bridle of sickness was put, restraining his pride, reproving human nature, and healing the disease that joy had produced in his soul. For that souls are lifted up more by joy the Jews showed: when they were freed from the Egyptians and saw the deep become their tomb, then they turned to idolatry. Having crossed the sea and suffered no danger, they were shipwrecked when they came to land. Epaminondas, the Theban general, saw this very well. Having conquered the Spartans and set up a trophy over them, he was seen by his friends the next day downcast and gloomy. When they asked whether something grievous had happened, he said, "No, but yesterday I noticed that I was thinking more highly of myself than was right; so today I am punishing the excess of my joy." Do not, then, be distressed yourself if, flourishing as you do in the goods of the soul, you are subdued by sicknesses of the body; but consider that this either brings forth crowns for you or restrains pride.

To Zosimus the presbyter. Great, they say, were the offences of your youth; how could they not be? But those of your old age go beyond all bounds. For in old age to shelter young men notorious for licentiousness surpasses every outrage. And you are plainly sick with the doctrines of Epicurus, unable to keep your opinion to yourself and confirming his doctrines by your deeds. Keep away, then, keep yourself away from the divine altar, lest a thunderbolt fall upon your head.

To Pamprepius the deacon. [On "Watch and pray, that you may not enter into temptation."] It is not possible, dear friend, to find a device by which one could be free of misfortunes. One would sooner come safe through the greatest storm without helmsman or rudder than escape the storm of this life without falling into temptation. For if the life of man on earth is a place of trial, how can those who are in the place of trial not be tried? What the Saviour said, "Watch and pray, that you may not enter into temptation," hinted at not being swallowed up by it. For if the Saviour had meant what others think, never falling into temptation at all, it would make no sense, since the prophets, the apostles and the most approved men fell into many and very great temptations. Not to fall into it is perhaps impossible; not to be defeated by it is possible. Most people, drowned in ignorance, have souls that cannot be consoled in misfortune; but those who are steered by sober reasoning repel misfortunes, not only by bearing them nobly but also by dreaming of crowns.

To Eulogius the reader. From what befell King Ahab at his death one may marvel how impossible it is to escape what must be, even when it is foretold. For it creeps into human souls, flattering them with good hopes, and leads them round to the place where it will surely master and overcome them.

To Chryses, most illustrious. Even if your Magnanimity had shown this greatness of soul toward your own relatives, it would not have been a small thing even so, to hold your possessions in common with your family; but the appearance of a necessity arising from nature might perhaps have taken something from the generosity. But now that this cause has been cut away (for the sons of the deceased, who were the ones you benefited, were not even known to you, except as their misfortune brought them to you), your intention wins approval in its purity. [Letter 2.79] To Lampetius the bishop. I indict you on a charge of neglect, because, as I learn, when you meet Zosimus the presbyter you do not treat his passions, but, persuaded by Hippocrates, do not take him in hand as one already overcome by disease. Even if this seemed true to some in the case of bodies (though it has often been refuted, for many physicians who took in hand those overcome have succeeded), still in the case of souls it is refuted even more. For we know some who have gone up from the depth of vice to the very summit of virtue. Bodies are given over to the necessity of nature, but souls are honoured with the authority of choice. As much as choice is more pliable than nature, so much easier is it to restore the soul. Despairing of nothing, then, try to set him straight. You will have no small glory with God, whether you succeed or not; for you will fulfil all your own part. Be disposed, then, as one who will surely win approval if you urge him to recover, and let this care not leave you night or day. Perhaps he himself may be saved somehow, those who are scandalized may be corrected, those who mock him may be muzzled, and you may obtain immortal glory.

To Zosimus the presbyter. [On judgment.] Before, I wrote hoping that you would be freed from vice and would run back to pure health; now I am in danger of having to speak so that others may not be thrown by you into the pit of wickedness as well. If you do not wish to save yourself, why do you ruin others too? Why do you draw the punishments of others onto your own wretched head, not reining in your neighing desires until you bloody their mouths, but giving them licence to rush wherever they want? Rein them in, then, so that you may not undergo the opposite of what befell the Ninevites. For as they, fearing the words, did not undergo the punishment in deed, so you, despising the threat in words, will undergo the punishment in deed.

To Athanasius the presbyter. You blame, I know not why, those who bring out spiritual meanings and transpose the letter into the spirit, though they often say things useful to their hearers; and you earnestly asked to have the things themselves explained to you, putting forward the question why the leper, the man with a discharge, and those suffering other involuntary diseases were excluded from the sacred precincts. I wished to keep silent; for it is not easy, and even if it were easy, it would not be fitting to parade the mysteries of nature. But since you have forced me with a second letter, I will speak as concisely as I can. It had been ordained, for the dignity of men and the honour of women, and for the sake of the thing itself (for such conduct breathes holiness): "You shall not go in to a woman in the impurity of her uncleanness." But many, through frenzy and licentiousness, or rather madness, have intercourse with women who are in their separation and being cleansed, or even pregnant, and the women, I know not how, put up with it (though irrational animals do not come together after conception; which is why some say that woman is called "the more female" by comparison with female animals, since these accept intercourse for the succession of their kind, while women perhaps do so through frenzy and licentiousness, though at that time a woman's desire is quenched; for nature is then occupied either with forming the living creature or with cleansing). And it often happened that the man's seed, mixed with the woman's impure blood, formed a body that was neither pure nor well tempered, but easily seized by various diseases. Wishing to prevent these evils in advance, the lawgiver disowned those born of such unions here and excluded them from the sacred assemblies, so that people would no longer dare to do such things. That this is the cause is clear from what is written in Ezekiel. There God, proclaiming the righteous man and disowning the sinner, said of the one that he had not approached a woman in her separation, and of the other that he had. And if you say, "He should have fixed the punishment for those who do it," I would answer: what punishment is harsher than this? When they see those born of them, whom they prayed to see far more approved than themselves, sharing neither in prayers, nor festivals, nor cities, nor sacred assemblies, consider how much torment they will undergo. For this reason too, I think, that other law was given: "And every soul that is not circumcised on the eighth day shall be destroyed from its people." Some of those who transfer the saying to the circumcision of the soul have rejected the letter as unreasonable: it should have been said, they said, that the man who does not circumcise his child is to be destroyed, not the infant before its time. But I, though the saying looks properly to the soul, do not reject the letter either. For here too the same sense will be preserved: the punishment is harsher for the fathers when the children are destroyed. The children, perhaps, if they die before the age that can tell good from what is not, will not even know that they were under punishment; and if they reach the age of discernment, they would not bear the matter very hard, since custom eases the punishment, especially as the fault is not voluntary. But the parents will endure an unbearable punishment. If, then, you have understood what has been said about involuntary afflictions (for about voluntary ones I do not think you would ask: you know that Uzziah, though he was a king, became a leper when he leapt improperly upon the priesthood), give thanks to God. If not, I would deserve acceptance from those who understand, because here I preferred propriety and decency to clarity, not parading the mysteries of nature.

To John the scholasticus. No one, I think, who has a manly mind and is worthy of the name of man is captivated by the sight of effeminate performers, who dance away human life and win most applause precisely when they are most inflamed.

To Aemilian and Pelagius the deacons. That a gentle and all-wise word can, like a remedy, quench anger boiling up from the depth of the heart, I know very well. Whether a medicine able to put it to sleep can be found in our words too, this I do not clearly know. If I succeed, I would affirm it; if I fail, I would be very grieved, but would least of all blame myself. Since, then, your strife, which has become sky-high, as they say, has wounded not only you but many others in their vital parts, I would wish you to quench and abolish it and run back to friendship; and if for now this is not possible, as some say, at least to unnerve your excessive contentiousness by silence and not increase it with words both speakable and unspeakable. For if you stop uttering against each other what is not lawful, the strife, quenched and dying down little by little, will make friendship blaze up again. As for the sick not getting worse may be the beginning of getting better (for in the most acute diseases staying the same is rightly regarded as improvement), so for you, who are very sick (do not think you are healthy, raging so against each other), not aggravating the passion may be the beginning of correction. Whether, then, you decide to abolish the enmity completely or not to let it go further, I will not deprive myself of the good hope that I am worth listening to and will be judged by my words.

To Theon the bishop. Do not shut your enemies up completely in necessity. If you would listen to me, do not do it at all; if to yourself, at least not completely, lest, taking necessity as their counsellor in their helplessness (and necessity is terrible in driving men to desperation when despair provokes it), they do to you the very things you are planning to do to them. For justice, the overseer of what is done, often turns things to the opposite because of the greed of the victors.

To Eulogius the presbyter. I think that a demon will not be able to stand even against a holy man. This is clear from the apostles' driving out demons, and clear too from Paul's driving away by a word the Python who stirred the affairs of the Greeks up and down. And in the martyrs' shrines the grace that waits upon the bodies of the saints torments the demons. If, then, this is so, as the experience of the facts shows, how could a demon have withstood an angel? But I think (I do not insist; I give my opinion) that, since according to Moses an angel was assigned to each nation ("When the Most High," he says, "divided the nations, as he scattered the sons of Adam, he set the boundaries of the nations according to the number of the angels of God"), [the prince of the kingdom of Persia was the angel of the Persians]. And if you say, "How, then, did the one not yield to the other?", I would answer that he did yield, but both were contending for the divine law. The one put forward the divine command that ordained that the Jews be released from captivity even though they were unwilling and unrepentant; the other, relying on the deeds of the Jews, said that it was just that they should remain in exile still. For since God had promised the return to those who lived piously and acted justly, he said that this command must prevail, since they were unrepentant and had not even turned to supplication. That God also praises hatred of wickedness is proved by what happened with Phinehas: when he had committed two killings at one stroke, God honoured him with the priesthood, which he would not have done if he legislated goodness alone. And since the law also declared that a Hebrew who served as a slave should be freed in the seventh year, and that if he was unwilling, he should be brought to the door of the tent, have his ear pierced, and remain a slave forever; and since, when the time of freedom came, these people made no provision for it (perhaps because they had grown fond of living among the barbarians and emulated their impiety and way of life), the angel of the Persians insisted that freedom did not belong to them at all, since the law frees those who wish it, but confirms the verdict of mastery against those who wish to remain slaves. He was not overcome by inhumanity, but proposed what was just. The other angel, putting goodness before justice, thought that divine grace should prevail, which had chosen to free them even though they were unworthy. So both contended for the divine law, the one hating wickedness, the other being good. God praises both; but grace won, goodness setting justice aside. For every argument is stale after the divine verdict: often, when soldiers dispute among themselves and each side puts forward what is just, the king's verdict ends the contention. These things were said and done for our benefit: so that Daniel might know that he had been heard, and that the people, hearing that God saves them though they are unworthy, because of his own promise and the intercession of the righteous man, might become more self-controlled and long for the return, as about to obtain the greatest goods if they were counted worthy of their homeland again.

To Eudaemon the scholasticus. Since you wrote asking why many who have committed the same offences have not paid the same penalty, I answer: because the judge's precision is great. In failings not only the kind of sin is examined, but also the intention of the sinner, his rank, the time, the place, his family; and, after the sin, whether he grieved or rejoiced, whether he remained unfeeling, whether he persisted, whether he repented; whether it was from circumstance, from affection, or from premeditation. And there are many other things through which this examination proceeds: the difference of times is examined too, and the condition of life. For one who has committed the same sin before the law, after the law, and after grace will not undergo the same penalty, but one a milder, another a stricter, and another an inexorable one. All this is proclaimed plainly in the sacred Scriptures.

To Pistus the deacon. Say and do such things as will make you both be and be thought not only most pious but also most just.

To Asclepius the bishop. Since you wrote that you wonder how Christ silenced the disciples who rebuked the woman who did not hesitate to pour out the very costly ointment, though they seemed to speak on behalf of the poor, I say that he who discoursed up and down about almsgiving, and preferred it to sacrifices, would not now have thrown it out, as you think. He who says, "I desire mercy, and not sacrifice," and, "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy," and, "As you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me," would not have turned round to the opposite. But since the woman who came had already poured out the oil, the divine Wisdom thought it most unfitting to maim her faith. So he spoke in her defence and said, "For she has done a good work." See the unspeakable wisdom. He did not say, "A good work has been done," but, "She has done it." For he does not examine the act by itself, but together with the person of the woman, as if saying: since she has once done it, she deserves acceptance. Let us not, then, demand precision of her, but weave her a crown from what is possible. If he had not accepted the woman with this intention, he ought to have made it a law for all to imitate her. But since he said nothing of the kind, he showed that he accepted her by condescension. If she had done it at his bidding, let it be a law; but if he did not object once she had done it, let them not turn the condescension into a law. For if in the Old Testament he permitted sacrifices and afterwards overturned them, how would he here have made a law of what he did not even permit? Just as, if he had been asked before she poured it out, he would have ordered it to be sold and given to the poor, so, after it was poured out, it was unfitting to quench the woman's faith by a rebuke. So too now do the approved among the priests act. If someone says, "I wish to dedicate something," they bid him give it to the poor; but if he has already had it made, they not only do not rebuke him, but even quietly accept it, not preferring this to that (for Christ did not come to dwell among us in order to fill the churches with gold and silver), but so as not to embarrass the one who dedicated it.

To Alexander the poet. Nothing is equal to virtue, not only because it surpasses all other things with an incomparable superiority, but because it also evens out uneven circumstances and makes unequal things equal. It is not humbled in poverty, nor does it submit to servile tasks in slavery, nor shrink in obscurity; nor again does it grow insolent in wealth or puffed up in office. Rather it brings its own knowledge to bear on all of these, regulating and ordering them, not following them, but persuading them to follow its own art. For if one must make the Homeric verse exact, which, they say, you continually have on your lips (perhaps because you are excited by bodily beauty), "fair and tall and skilled in splendid works," it will seem to have been said of virtue rather than of the one of whom it was said. What is greater than virtue, what more beautiful? Who knows more splendid works than she, who evens out the unevenness of circumstances by her own philosophy, keeps the mind even in uneven fortunes, wins herself renowned glory everywhere, comforts those who fall into misfortune and sobers those made insolent by prosperity? Direct the eye of your soul toward her, then, and gaze on her beauty, so that, becoming her ardent lover, you may be praised and proclaimed by all. [Letter 2.90] To Apollonius the bishop. Among the Greeks (though he had them in his power, leading and carrying them wherever he wished) and among the Jews (though he drove them mad into idolatry and into a frenzy of murders) the devil gave birth to many sects. If among Christians he has given birth to far more, let no one wonder. Before the coming of Christ in the flesh, seeing everyone drunk with vice and no one, so to speak, purely sober, he cast only a few seeds of contention. But when the saving Word came from heaven, bringing us the doctrines of the heavenly way of life, and announcing to the devil, through what he threatened against sinners, the penalty that awaits him (for he said, "Go into the fire prepared for the devil and his angels"), then the common enemy of all, seeing our race little by little shaking off vice and taking up virtue, banishing impiety and embracing piety, and having heard the terms of the sentence against himself, blew more violently against us and gave birth to the heresies. No longer able to oppose piety, he strives to lead many into impiety under its name; he tries to overturn the truth under a pretext of reverence, and by corrupt doctrines often throws headlong those who shine with an excellent life. For he has one work and one zeal: to sink everyone together with himself into the sea of destruction, whether by force or by bastard doctrines. Let the leaders of the heresies, then, considering this, stop sowing seeds against the truth, considering that they above all are tossed in the greatest danger. Let their hearers stop too, enslaved only to prejudice and swaggering against the truth, lest, as far as in them lies, they render idle the Saviour's achievement, great and beyond word and thought. And let those stop as well who pride themselves on orthodox doctrines but are convicted by the carelessness of their lives, doing things that show them to be bastard disciples of piety; let them mix the best way of life with the right faith, so that we may all hear the royal voice proclaiming us.

To Theodosius the presbyter. Since you wrote asking why the court at Athens in which Paul also addressed the people was called the Areopagus, I reply that Ares, as they say, was tried there. A pagos is a high place, for that court was on a hill; hence some call the rulers of villages or of certain districts pagarchs.

To the same. Since you wished to learn also on what charge Ares was convicted and paid the penalty, I am ashamed to say it, but I will tell it nevertheless; for what is told will be a clear refutation of the Greeks. When those whom they call the dispensers and stewards of all things are seen to have neither chastity nor right judgment, they could hardly be venerable. The others I will pass over, so as not to make my letter long, though I could name many; I will mention only one, the one who makes clear what you asked. They say that Ares was so overcome by Aglauros, the daughter of Cecrops, that, though her age could not yet bear a marriage that ends maidenhood, he, a hot and licentious lover, forced the still-closed bud of her nature before its time. The girl, as they say, still had the tender flower of youth. And he who claimed to be worshipped made the ground an improvised bridal chamber for her, not showing the girl's consent by persuasion, nor with the consent of those who had authority to give her in marriage, but by violence and audacity he plundered the spoils of marriage. He lived with her a long time and had by her Alcippe, whom Halirrhothius, the son of Poseidon, took. But Ares, vexed at the outrage to his daughter, killed him, forgetting that he himself had violated the daughter of Cecrops. That he had swept violence upon the mother for the sake of union he judged worthy of not even small blame; but Halirrhothius, who neither outraged an unripe girl nor preferred violence to persuasion, but brought the girl to consent to what she suffered (had not maidenly modesty veiled her willingness), he judged so deserving of punishment that he made himself his adversary, his judge and his executioner. For this, accused by Poseidon at the Hill of Ares and convicted, he himself paid the penalty, and left his name to the place as a public record of his shame. [Letter 2.93] To Theodosius the scholasticus. I have often marvelled at the ignorance of those who take no account of faith and of the best way of life, but busy themselves inquiring into things that cannot be found, and that provoke God when they are inquired into. For when we force ourselves to learn what he did not wish us to know, we will not know it (how could we, when God does not will it?), and the only result for us from inquiring will be danger. Leaving aside, then, the examination of these things as beyond nature and nowhere to be grasped, and fleeing to the harbour of right faith and the best way of life, let us obtain our safety from there.