Letters 3.161–3.193

To Archontius the presbyter. [On "the knuckles of a hand."] Since you asked, "What is 'the knuckles of a hand'?", listen. When the barbarian, drunk with tyranny, puffed up with arrogance and heavy-headed with wine, set out the sacred vessels for use not only by men but also by the women who served his pleasures, the part of the hand beyond the forearm appeared, writing the sentence against him. For just as painters (to make my proof even from their daring), making bodies of incorporeal things, venture to paint a hand alone crowning the heads of the kings of the earth, to show that their rule has been given them from heaven, so there too it appeared by condescension, to show that the King of all was pronouncing the verdict against the tyrant and writing the sentence.

To Martyrius the presbyter. It is a rule of piety and justice to hide one's achievements, both because the end is uncertain and because it annoys the hearers; and to be anxious, both because of nature's inclination to sin and because hearers are readier to believe and agree about evil things. For few believe good things and many believe evil ones, not only bringing their verdict about others from their own case, but also thinking to cover their own sins by accusing others.

To the same. There are two modes of piety, most eloquent friend. The most holy and most divine is in the soul. For this is the finest offering and the dearest to God: to have a holy mind and to picture the divine presence, keeping it established and firm in the sanctuaries of the soul. The second is in the purity of the body. For whoever lacks these two modes will not please God even if he brings the most precious treasures of land and sea, or slaughters all the animals that the law formerly prescribed for sacrifice.

To Theodore the scholasticus. It is an ordinance rightly ratified from above, and an unwritten law that looks to humanity, that those who prevail by arms should yield to suppliants, and those who conquer in war give way to pity. But you, they say, respecting neither the innate ordinances nor the unwritten laws, dishonoured those who undertook to plead for the slaves. Know, then, that you may well come into the very position you saw others in without being moved as a human being, but, showing yourself implacable, you outraged both nature itself and mercy.

To Paul the subdeacon. [On what the Apostle said: "Even if an angel from heaven should preach to you."] The ardent lover of the Word, Paul the apostle I mean, pronounces his verdict not only against himself and the other apostles, if they should dare to devise some innovation in the preaching, but also against angels, and not simply angels but those from heaven; not choosing, as you thought, to insult them, who have never dared, do not dare, and will not dare to do this, but shutting the road to credibility against the accursed demons, lest, taking the pretext of being angels, they overturn the preaching. For what does he say? "Even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you contrary to what we preached to you, let him be accursed." So indeed the angels too rejoiced in the security of the preaching, since the one sent to Cornelius pointed out the teacher and did not take the matter on himself. [Letter 3.166] [On what is written, "For the Son of Man is going to come in the glory of his Father."] Christ promised, excellent friend, that he will come in the Father's glory, stopping the mouths of the heretics and quenching their madness. For he did not say, "in such glory as the Father's" (lest anyone again suspect some difference), but, holding to exactness, he says that he will come in that very glory, so that it must be thought one and the same. And those whose glory is one, much more is their essence one. If anyone disbelieves, let him examine what is about to be said. If, where the essence is not one, a difference of glory is found (for there is one glory of the sun, another of the moon, another of the stars, for star differs from star in glory), how could those whose glory is one differ in essence?

To Maron. Nearly every other passion has a peak, knows a decline, recognizes satiety and hastens to an end. But the terrible love of money, which is not innate but has burst in from somewhere outside, knows no decline, insults satiety, knows no gladness, does not bear an end; always at its peak, or rather intensifying its peak, it forces itself to be younger and more tyrannical than itself. For it contends not only with the other passions but also with itself, striving to outdo itself. One could sooner grasp the unattainable than it could reach satiety. For somehow regarding addition as diminution and loss, it kindles the fire more; and some say your soul too has tasted it. Quench it, then, as quickly as possible; otherwise you will live a life not worth living here, and give a bitter account there.

To Eutonius the deacon. The one who does not betray what is fitting, most wise friend, will never be betrayed by the divine alliance.

To Athanasius the presbyter. Even if someone were from the most royal homeland and the most illustrious family, abounded in every kind of wealth, reached the summit of eloquence, had all the writings of the ancients on his lips, prided himself on strength and beauty, glory and office, were thought worthy of kingship itself and wore the crown and the purple, but did not have virtue, I would rank him among the most slavish. But if someone is wise in justice and self-control, courage and prudence, I would number him among the most royal. And if the lover of virtue is better than one who has all those things together, much more blessed and glorious will he be than one who does not have them all together (for they cannot all come together), because those things are quickly extinguished, but virtue is immortal.

To Peter. [On the saying, "Who is the faithful and wise servant?"] That the one who betrays the right moment for action would miss the hunt for good things is plain. And that all things are good in their season, Ecclesiastes taught. If, then, this is so, why are you surprised that the Saviour said of the wise and faithful steward that he will give the food in its season? For what is out of season is everywhere distressing, and a kindness that misses its season loses even its name. For instance, the same bread is sweet and lovely to the hungry but not at all to one who is full; and the same cup is most pleasant to the thirsty but most unpleasant to the drunk. What, then, is the cause that makes the same things not have the same effect? The right season, plainly, which makes what is given greater and more lovely. One must therefore not only give (that is perhaps a small thing) but give in season. For this makes what is given greater, even if it is small, and most great, if it is great. That is why the Psalmist too, proclaiming the divine benefits, added this: "All look to you to give them their food in due season." For he not only feeds but feeds in due season. For this above all is what nourishes everything: to be given in season. And if you wish to see this happen with the fruits born from the earth too, see that grain, wine, oil, the kinds of tree-fruit and the varieties of flowers do not come at one season; but the meadows lead, the crops follow, the vine succeeds, and the cluster escorts the farmer to the olive, as if the seasons were dancing a most excellent dance and resting the farmer by the length of time. For if all came to their prime at once, the farmer's art would be cramped by the shortness of time, and everything would have perished and been ruined, since he would not suffice for all at once

To Arsenuphius the reader. We must both sing psalms with understanding and pray with sobriety; and ask not for what seems good to us, but for what the Giver himself knows to be useful and advantageous. For many, because of wealth, had a life worth living, and in the end, plotted against, fell from both the present and the future life; others, courting office, which breeds occasions for thefts (I would not say gains), were deprived even of what they had; others, eager to marry a good-looking wife in order to be gladdened by her, fell for that very reason into dangers and wars; others, eager to reach the height of strength and vigour, lived a beastlike life and were ignorant of the soul's nobility (since it darkened their best activities), and in the end became food for wild beasts, enduring an inglorious and accursed end. Leaving all these, then, let us ask God for what he himself knows to be useful. [Letter 3.172] Wealth is good for one who can use and manage it well. Poverty is good for one who knows how to bear it nobly. Glory too is good for one who uses it to protect the oppressed. Obscurity too is good for one who has chosen to practise philosophy. Office too is good for one who rules justly and takes nothing from his office to wrong those beneath him. Strength too is good for one who spends it helping the weaker. Let us not, then, blame things, which can be instruments of virtue and vice, but our own choice, which through excessive carelessness outrages even the beauty of the weapons.

To the same. Of time, part has flown away, the part that seems present escapes notice, and the future, while still awaited, passes by. For just as a violent rush of water does not allow an exact perception of itself to be gained (for it outruns understanding by its swiftness), so, and perhaps even more, the rush of time hastening to its end passes easily through, and showing human beings nothing clear or fixed, leaves behind something like the shadows of dreams.

To Eutonius the deacon. Keep, wise friend, a well-disposed mind and a strong soul, and everything that happens will turn to your good name and your enemies' shame. But if you are negligent, you will ruin your own reputation, and provide a festival for your opponents and grief for your friends. [Letter 3.175] Of people, some through slowness of mind do not attain to justice; others through sharpness attain it, but through love of money they trade in it, selling their verdict for gold and shaking the scale of justice with a bribe. And there are those who corrupt it by respect for persons, by flattery and by fear. The judge, then, must be intelligent and incorruptible, superior to money, respect for persons, flattery and fear. For if he is overcome by any of these passions, he will ruin everything. If, then, finding justice is a task, and not corrupting it once found a harder one, no one ought to throw himself into judging. And if Zosimus, as you wrote, being both slow and, if anyone, a lover of money, throws himself into judging disputants (though he has been caught selling justice, condemned by the disputants themselves, and often cried down by all), do not be surprised. If, having mastered the other passions, he had been defeated by this one, one might perhaps rightly have been surprised. But if, as you say, having been utterly defeated by all the most shameful passions, he was caught by this one too, one must not be surprised.

To Isidore the deacon. [On what is written, "Do we not have the right to take along a sister as wife?"] Each of the apostles, so to speak, took one country and set it in order. But Paul, like a winged farmer, ran over nearly the whole inhabited world, went even to the very ends of the earth, setting in order those who had heard and sowing the divine preaching among those who had not. That is why women followed the others, not for the begetting of children or for living together, but supplying and feeding from their own means the heralds of non-possession. But they were neither permitted nor able to follow Paul, running, as I said, to the very ends of the earth. And what wonder if the female sex was left behind, when even Barnabas, his partner in the pair, gave way before that boundless course and labour and yielded the first place to Paul? It was while Barnabas was still ranked with him that Paul wrote this: "Do we not have the right to take along a sister as wife, like the other apostles and the brothers of the Lord and Cephas? Or is it only I and Barnabas who have no right to refrain from working?" Not that the counsellors of virginity, the heralds of chastity, who set in order the choirs of virgins, lived with women. For who would have borne them counselling virginity if they themselves were caught wallowing in pleasures? This, then, is not what he says (otherwise he would have said "a wedded wife," as notaries write in dowry contracts, "to feed and clothe her as befits a wedded wife according to his means," putting "wife" for the nature and "wedded" for the living together); but since they followed them, feeding from their own possessions the teachers of non-possession, he said "sister" to show their purity and "woman" to show their nature. For a virgin too is called a woman, even if untouched: a woman by form, even if intact; a woman by nature, even if uninitiated in intercourse with a man. And that this is not off the mark, this same Paul, whose wording some dare to misinterpret with malice, speaking of the Saviour's birth according to the flesh from the holy Virgin Mary, said, "born of a woman." What are you doing, Paul? Do you call the Virgin a woman? "Yes," he says, "I call her woman because of her nature, but I hold her a virgin in intent. For a virgin is a woman, even if untouched: a woman by form and fashioning, a virgin by her integrity and purity."

To Peter the reader. Even if the surgery, excellent friend, is common and the remedies are set before all, the cure is not common, since it depends on the choice of those who use them. One who took the remedy and applied it to the wound benefited from the treatment; one who neglected it made the disease greater and more grievous and ended in the most pitiable death. Let us not, then, be pained at being treated, but bear the bitter methods of such healing. For later it bears the sweetest fruit. For what has been stumbled through carelessness must be wiped out by labours, and defeats must be retrieved by many dangers.

To Thomas the monk. Your holiness, you sacred precinct of hatred for evil, ought to have consigned to silence things worthy of oblivion and deep silence. But since you have tragically denounced the impiety of the man called Eusebius by antiphrasis, in that he received as reader Chaeremon, who had been deposed by the renowned Ammonius, truly a bishop, on four very grave charges, and, I know not how, ordained him deacon, making a man who deserved to be punished even by the laws of those outside approach the service of the holy mysteries without fear, for this reason I thought it right not even to blame him, though I wished to. For even if, as you said, each of the charges was so grave that the doer deserved not only deposition but also punishment by the sword, still it would have been better left unspoken. For what ought to be spoken is what is worth hearing and trains the hearers in justice and self-control.

To Poemenius the presbyter. We shall go up to the summit of humility (for I would define it not as a descent but as an ascent) if we quench the deadly swelling of arrogance and the inflammation of boastfulness that brings down to Hades, practise moderation in everything, and overlook nothing, as though we would not be harmed by it. For the soul is accustomed to follow what is done, and is naturally shaped and formed according to what it practises. Let us have, then, a dignified bearing, a gentle look, a lowered brow, an unhurried gait, a serviceable garment, a humble seat, plain food, bedding no better than need, furniture designed for cheapness, a house befitting Christians; and let our speech, voice and dealings with our neighbours look to moderation rather than to inflammation. For so, practising moderation in everything, we shall go up to the heavenly summit.

To Alypius. [On the saying, "to tell Abraham that Sarah is nursing."] Since you asked for what reason Sarah, who had become a mother late and given birth with Abraham present, said, "Who will tell Abraham that Sarah is nursing a child?" (for she should have said, "that she has given birth"), I say that "Who will tell Abraham" means something like: "O Abraham, who will announce in Persia that Sarah, the barren and old, is nursing?" For it does not read "Who will tell to Abraham" but "Abraham." And if anyone thinks this forced, perhaps it means someone of the same name as Abraham; which is why the article was not added. Whether the patriarch was absent at the time, I cannot say. But I would rather say this: if some think it was said of him, things are also said of those present, as in "Who will tell my Lord? The Lord himself, he will hear." For to say, "Who will explain to the perfect man the milk-feeding of the imperfect?" is more curious than persuasive. Enough about these things. And she did not say "has given birth," lest the child be thought supposititious, but "is nursing." For the springs of milk guarantee the birth; the flow of milk is the clearest proof of a genuine birth.

To Eutonius the deacon. Those who do not wish to practise philosophy when insulted ought to be urged to it by these two things: that nothing pains insulters so much as the forbearance of those insulted, and that one cannot take revenge on them so well as by practising virtue. If you do not believe me, hear what one of the ancients declared about this. Asked, "How might I avenge myself on my enemy?", he said, "By becoming good and noble yourself." If, then, the one who practises virtue and forbearance deals mortal blows to his enemies, why do we not value these defences highly? And if someone also grants pardon to those struck by envy, prays that they may recover from such madness, and not only does not wish to retaliate but even suffers with those overcome by vice, this man truly knows how to practise philosophy sincerely.

To Lampetius the bishop. [How the divine power is made perfect in weakness.] I will say briefly how power was made perfect in weakness. Since the apostles, when scourged, prevailed over those who scourged them, when driven out mastered those who persecuted them, and when dying routed the living, for this reason he said this. For the manner of victory was new: to have conquered through the opposites and never to be defeated, so that their opponents said of them, "What shall we do with these men?" For this was the wonderful and paradoxical thing, beyond all amazement: that, holding them, binding and beating them, they were at a loss and uttered the cries of the defeated, being defeated by the very means by which they thought to prevail. For what they devised for the apostles' disgrace, they saw happening for their glory. Truly, then, the power of God shone the more in the weakness of the apostles. For not by making trouble and fighting back, not by forging weapons and gathering soldiers, but by preparing their minds only to suffer ill, they raised trophies everywhere.

To Paul. [That it is better than idleness and laziness at least to carry on one's lips what others have laboured over.] You seem, as some say, to adorn yourself with others' labours, reaping others' sweat. But while they blame you, I quietly approve. For it is much better than being idle, lazy and babbling to have at least the writings of others on one's lips.

To Eulogius. [On what is written, "What son is there whom a father does not discipline?", and that what is put as a question is more effective than assertions.] The divine Paul often passes over asserting and puts things as a question, thinking that the proof becomes gentler and more effective in this way. For he said to those who were in trials and vexed: "For what son is there whom a father does not discipline?", to make the proof more vivid by the question. So too elsewhere: "Is it fitting for a woman to pray to God uncovered?", trying to show the absurdity more clearly by the question. For many dare to contradict assertions; but what is put as a question both persuades and silences, and gives the speaker a reputation for gentleness.

To Theodosius the scholasticus. I define pursuits whose end is not useful for life not as arts at all, but as vain arts or evil arts. For it belongs to art to look to what is useful and of common benefit. [Letter 3.186] [On the saying, "Those who mind earthly things."] The Apostle, most wise friend, blaming those who mind earthly things, said, "But our citizenship is in heaven," setting those who do small and base things against those who do great and vigorous ones. For the former are paltry and low, the latter magnanimous and sky-high. But checking those who thought highly of themselves against their brothers, he said, "Not minding high things, but associating with the lowly," not forbidding them to imagine things above the world, but cutting out haughtiness and boastfulness. For greatness of mind, that is, magnanimity, is one thing, and arrogance, that is, boastfulness, another. The one considers everything that happens secondary to its own courage; the other considers all people secondary to its own paltry self. The one imagines things above the world, the other dreams of earthly things. The one longs for divine and renowned glory, the other loves glory that is quenched.

To the same. Pride (phronema) and prudence (phronesis) are not the same. The one shows self-exaltation, the other understanding; the one arrogance, the other sobriety; the one attacking one's neighbours, the other overlooking nothing fitting. The one strips the ornament from those adorned by virtue, the other adorns even the inferior. That is why pride is hated and prudence admired; the one is denounced, the other proclaimed. Cultivating prudence, then, that is understanding, try to tear out by the root pride, that is, attacking one's neighbours,

To the same. I think that humility is born of a great-natured and sky-high soul, and arrogance of a paltry and very base one. Abraham, the friend of God, and the Pharisee guarantee this. The one, enjoying converse with God, called himself earth and ashes; the other, with nothing provoking him, was puffed up, thought highly of himself, and tried to set himself above the whole world.

To Zosimus the presbyter. The one who undertakes to teach must act, and then speak; the one who does not act ought not even to speak. The first will be ranked among the very foremost; the second will not only pay the penalty there, but will incur laughter here too, for he will become a subject of comedy for his hearers. One must, then, either speak while acting, or, not acting, keep quiet and rein in the tongue with the reins of good sense, which also give birth to repentance.

To Zeno the presbyter. A calm and serene character joined with prudence is, in my judgment, the greatest sign of a settled and steady mind. [Letter 3.191] [Against those who say that there is a horoscope, that is, fate, or what is called fortune.] Those who mix all things together and make a hotchpotch, as the saying goes, do not seem to me to be sound of mind. For if there is God, there is no horoscope; and if there is a horoscope, I do not say the opposite; let the blasphemy recoil on the heads of those who make it to be said. But if no one would say this, the church's crown is beyond dispute. This victory alone, I think, would have been enough, even if it were the only one. But now we rely on many others too. If there is a horoscope, there is no law; if there is law, there is no horoscope. If a horoscope, no exhortation; if exhortation, no horoscope. If a horoscope, no judgment; if judgment, no horoscope. If a horoscope, no prayer; if prayer, no horoscope. If a horoscope, no studies; if studies, no horoscope. If a horoscope, no philosophy; if philosophy, no horoscope. If a horoscope, no medicine; if medicine, no horoscope. If a horoscope, no farming; if farming, no horoscope. And though I have much to say, I will leave it now and reason it out another time. If the contest were of one thing against one, perhaps the crown would be disputed. But if the battle is of one against many and various, the victory, I think, is beyond dispute. For even if it should seem to have won against one, it will be defeated by the others. I said "seem" since not everyone is able to judge matters purely, whether through narrowness of mind, carelessness, perversity of character, or prejudice, the neighbour of death; for to those who have sense and keep their judgment of things free from prejudice, the truth is clear. [Letter 3.192] Luxury, excellent friend, not only banishes much-loved health, which is preferable to office and wealth (for without it those are nothing), but also creates various and incurable diseases. If, then, you care for health, care also for self-sufficiency. Physicians rightly define want as the mother of health; but I, since my words are addressed to you, who outrage even satiety with surfeit, announce to you that self-sufficiency will be the mother of much-desired health.

To Lampetius the bishop. If it is possible for Zosimus, Maron and Eustathius, who have been caught in so many and such great evils, to be brought to their senses and return whence they fell, that is better. But if not, cut them off like incurable limbs hastening to reach the vital parts.