Letters 3.222–3.251

To the same. One must practise a moderate spirit, excellent friends. By moderate I mean not what flatters the greater, but what condescends to the lesser; not the servile, but the gentle; not what is full of hypocrisy, but what is guileless, free, and knows no trickery.

To Hierax the presbyter. You are celebrated not a little throughout the city, you for whom everything one could say is too small. For when office, fought over and most desired by all, was now, if ever, casting a violent love of itself into people and readily giving itself to those who loved it, you not only did not dream of it, but did not even heed when called, nor snatch it when it was held out to you, considering it the greatest rule, and fitting for a good and noble man, to be able to rule oneself, setting reason over anger and pleasures. And after this you saw well and rightly that true freedom dances in quiet, not in these conspicuous offices. For you rightly thought it a matter of great constraint to rule some and serve others, to command some and obey others, to wrong some and do favours to others, to be subject to some and be over others, to fear some and be hated by others. Thinking, then, that these belong to people undergoing punishment, not receiving honour, you rightly declined it and turned your zeal to the care of the soul. And if some who do not judge matters rightly, or rather have lost their reason, blame you, they ought not even to be thought worth a word, since they blame a man worthy of crowns. But if one must skirmish with them, say this: "Perhaps you do not know that the dignity of gentleness has passed over into tyranny. If you can show that the ancient pastoral office prevails now too, you might rightly blame the man who thought himself unequal to the task and fled; but … And if it has changed into its opposite, let him not be called to account. For then they died for the sheep; now the shepherds kill the sheep, not slaughtering their bodies (that would be a lesser evil), but scandalizing their souls. Then they chastened the body with fasts; now they make it frisk with luxuries. Then they distributed their own goods to the needy; now they appropriate the goods of the poor. Then they practised virtue; now they banish those who practise virtue. Then they revered purity; now (but I wish to say nothing harsh)." For I said this mocking the guilty; I shall not blame all, but by showing the difference between the ancient ministry and the present tyranny, I ask why you do not crown and proclaim the lovers of equality.

To Zosimus the presbyter. A man of those who pride themselves on philosophy met us and made a terrible outcry against you, saying that he wondered how, though not even born of free blood, you raise your brow, lift your neck, walk on tiptoe, think you tread on air, and show your lack of education in all your limbs; while he extolled a woman of old, whose epitaph he recited, saying: "Archedice, daughter, wife, sister and mother of tyrants, did not lift her mind to arrogance." I thought it right to tell you this very thing; perhaps now you may know yourself. [Letter 3.225] To Strategius the monk. Most people take suffering wrong unwillingly as a sign of unmanliness, and choosing willingly to be wronged as the greatest sign of gentleness and philosophy. But those who know how to judge matters rightly, or rather those who believe the holy Scriptures, do not deprive of rewards or praise even the one who is wronged unwillingly but bears it like a philosopher; Paul above all casting his vote and saying, "And you accepted joyfully the plundering of your property, knowing that you have for yourselves a better and lasting possession in heaven." And if you say, "What could the man wronged by someone more powerful have done?", I would say: cry out, speak ill, curse, ridicule, trouble the courts. The one, then, who could do all these things but does not, even if he is not counted with the one who chose willingly to be wronged, would at least be counted next to him. And if one must use cleverness and speak with exactness, perhaps he would even outshoot him. For to the one, wishing to be wronged brings the greatest comfort; he would not have been wronged if he had not wished it. But for the one who did not wish it, yet endured it and did nothing of what he could have done to avenge himself on the wrongdoer, since he has displayed the test of the highest philosophy, a more brilliant crown would be woven.

To Pamprepius the deacon. The greatest sign, admirable friend, that the hearer has been persuaded is his praise of what was said. For one cannot claim not to be persuaded by what one thinks is right. For just as we are eager to avoid whatever we condemn, if we are sensible, so we certainly choose what we admire. Why I say this you perhaps know, since you ought to carry through to the end the advice you praised.

To Strategius the monk. Do not be ignorant, friend, that the foundation of the blessed life is the deadening of the passions, than which nothing could be more desirable or more glorious.

To the same. Even if the common enemy of all attacked you, meaning to prevail by a mere shout and seize your whole way of life at a rush, you, as I learned, putting forward the divine alliance with sleepless zeal, caused him many labours in the siege, showed his engines and siege-towers useless, and set up a more brilliant trophy against him. Rejoicing with you, then, at the victory and singing the victory songs, we urge you to keep watch and pay attention to yourself. For the enemy neither knows respect nor how to blush, nor does he despair until death; but, content with his own nature in place of arms and engines, he attacks at every moment, not thinking of defeat but dreaming of victory. "Keep your heart, then, with all vigilance." For the battle against him is not uniform (then he would easily be caught), but varied and many-sided. When he is defeated through self-control, he wages war through love of money. If he is wounded there too, he plots through envy. If he sees someone prevailing over these, he arms friends. If one withstands their attacks, he sets the servants at war. When one is not caught even by them, he breeds negligence. If one overcomes this, he injects resentment. And why do I try to tell all the arrows of the evil one? I will pass them over, and advise your courage to make itself all eyes, since the enemy shoots from every side and aims above all at the vital parts.

To Leontius the magistrianus. I do not approve of your calling Zosimus, the supposed presbyter, the pollution of the city, the stain of the church, the outrage of freedom, the destroyer of his companions, and every most shameful name. For even if he is such, your tongue, which is an instrument of truth, ought not to be soiled with these words. Stop, then, outraging yourself. For even if what is said is true and no one would charge you with lying, still you, being an orderly man and abounding in many virtues, ought to pride yourself on the ornament of forbearance too.

To Aphrodisius the presbyter. What you wrote would have been timely to say to those who behaved insolently toward you, if they did not admit that they had erred. But since they admit it, the reminder of it is untimely, lacking the help of the right moment.

To Antiochus. [On "My eye will not spare."] You asked for what reason the fount of gentleness said through Ezekiel about the Jews, "My eye will not spare, nor will I have mercy." Listen, then. Since for a long time they had been committing sins too great for pardon, neither accepting the words of the prophets nor considering the divine benefits, they fell into incurable vice; and a final sentence had been pronounced against them, that they be handed over to the Babylonians and become the work of the enemy's right hand, for he knew their impenitence. "I will take no pity," he says, "on those who suffer," which I did in the case of the Ninevites. For there their inclination and turning to the better gave occasion for the condemned to be recalled and the sentence overturned. But here, since no one looked to the better but all inclined to the worse, the verdict was necessarily pronounced against all.

To Paul the monk. [That it is beyond all daring for those who live shamefully to teach doctrine; and on what is written, "They desire to know my ways, as a people that has done righteousness."] The one who is to discuss God must shine with the virtues of his way of life. For he does not allow the lover of vice to move his tongue even about his statutes, let alone about himself, since the divine laws are outraged when uttered by a foul tongue. "For to the sinner," it says, "God said: Why do you recount my statutes and take my covenant in your mouth?" And through Isaiah, blaming those who do not care for an excellent life but find fault with his dispensations, he says: "They desire to know my ways, as a people that has done righteousness and has not forsaken the judgment of its God." If, then, those who pry into his ways, that is, his dispensations, are all-daring, how do those not go beyond all daring who move a discourse about God himself with a foul tongue, and especially when they pry into what he is? One must not be curious about what he is, but maintain that he is. And I say nothing of the fact that among the Spartans, who rightly defined words as shadows of deeds, a man who had lived shamefully was not allowed even to propose a good opinion. If, then, some attack you, who believe rightly and do well, and cause you trouble, do not be disturbed. Such is the custom of base people. Being plainly defeated in their life, they take refuge in the investigation of the divine, as if from this they could cause trouble to those who live well and shut off their freedom of speech. But they ought to consider that those who stumble about what is plain would not be trustworthy speaking about what seems unclear, and first set their own life in order, and so go on to the investigation of things beyond reach.

To the same. The premises of arguments must be true and trustworthy. For if the premise is false, the conclusion too will necessarily be found unsound.

To Alypius the bishop. Do not be vexed, excellent friend, if I loose my tongue against the money-lovers. For I will state a thing clear, simple and needing no witness. They are so mastered by the disease that they do not even think it a disease. For just as the citizens of heaven, I mean the monks in the mountains, do not even know what greed is, so neither do these, but not in the same way: in the opposite way to them. The former do not know the disease because they are far from the passion; the latter do not even think it a disease. For vice has so thrust aside virtue, tyrannizes, and turns everything upside down, that it is not even thought to be vice.

To Zosimus the presbyter. [That the soul is immortal.] Your thinking that the soul perishes with the body is utterly laughable and foolish, and truly the mark of a fleshly man who wishes there to be nothing after this life, and who confirms what people of every age tell tragically of you. Philosophers, poets, orators and historians, as many as taught the soul's immortality, ought to put you to shame; and even if you are unacquainted with them, being uneducated in everything, you ought to learn from the educated. An irrefutable reasoning too will put you to shame. For the soul that takes hold of the body, which is always flowing and perishing, binds together its mortal and fluid part, raises what falls, and supplies nourishment to what flows away and new growth to what withers, would surely not, when it comes to be by itself, lose its own power, by which it held the body together and preserved it. And if you are neither shamed by the wise outside nor persuaded by this compelling reasoning, being plunged in a vice great and beyond pardon, we will read you a divine oracle by which the soul's immortality is proclaimed expressly. What does it say? "Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul." Do not, then, because of the excess of the evils you have done (for you have left nothing undone, as they say), make impious doctrines for yourself; but believing that the soul is immortal, and that you will often pay the penalty here and certainly there, since you will not escape justice, be rid of wickedness, even late.

To Eulogius. Saying a few things, I will tell you what I mean. Someone, mocking the Boeotians for lack of education, said, "O Boeotians, how very Boeotian you are!" A just man, asked by the Milesians to join in an unjust matter, said, "O Milesians, how very Milesian you are!" Alexander, asked why he honoured Antipater so much, said, "Because he is in place of a father (anti patros) to me." And I will say, Eulogius, how very Eulogius you are, "speaker of good words," since you have chosen to praise me and those like me.

To Heron the monk. [On "Every man appears righteous."] Many people (I hesitate to say all, though Scripture seems to say so) gain an appearance of righteousness not by embracing righteousness but by comparing themselves with the more unjust, through comparison with the worse; not testing the divine commandments by themselves and setting their own life by their rule, but measuring their own way of life against the careless among their neighbours. That is why this was said, which you wished to learn: "Every man appears righteous to himself." For he is blind to the achievements of his neighbours but sees their faults sharply; and like vultures, which often pass by meadows and gardens and fly to dead bodies. It added, indeed: "But the Lord directs hearts," plainly the hearts of those who have banished such a fancy, or of those who have set their life by the divine commandments, or of those who have gone beyond being mere men and been raised by an excellent way of life to a higher rank and dignity, according to the saying, "I said, You are gods and sons of the Most High, all of you."

To Pamprepius the deacon. [What is meant by "Priests, speak to the heart of Jerusalem."] Since philosophizing in words is easy but in deeds difficult, and the one delights the ears while the other educates souls, for this reason God cries to those crowned with the ministry of the priesthood what you wished to learn: "Priests, speak to the heart of Jerusalem." For since those who philosophize in words not only annoy their hearers but also make themselves ridiculous by doing the opposite of what they say, for this reason he demands of them the virtue of deeds, which touches the souls of the hearers. So the one consecrated must be holy. For it is not right for the unholy to serve as priest.

To Palladius the deacon. [That ill repute is grievous, and the labours of those overcome by it are unprofitable.] Recover your reputation, excellent friend, which has not merely fallen sick and perished and passed into non-existence (that would perhaps be a lesser evil), but has turned into ill repute.

To Lampetius the bishop. I know, you palace of purity, that you are rightly vexed that Zosimus and Martinianus, Maron and Eustathius are supposedly priests, men inaccessible and impassable to every virtue, who have made themselves a highway and ground for every vice to ride on. But you ought to know well that the greater the honour they were thought worthy of, the greater the penalty they will pay, because they did not become better even by the benefit.

To the same. You perhaps think that I have a store of many words and thoughts, but I know clearly that I know nothing. And if anything well esteemed is said, the cause must be ascribed to God, who often makes even unlearned men wise for the benefit of the hearers.

To Nilammon the scholasticus. Even though, being clever, you anticipated the defence and ridiculed it in writing, say again that the extraordinary vice of Martinianus and Zosimus, Maron and Eustathius, whose life is now acted on the stage and brings disrepute and ridicule on the most holy religion, does not harm the doctrine. But I would not depart from the truth; I would use it for my defence. Since, having nothing to blame in the most divine religion, you turned the accusation against some of the ordained, your malice has been detected by all who are not without understanding, who praised the divine way of life highly and turned the accusation against those men. And if you too give up your love of quarrelling, you will accept what has been said. For what absurdity do we utter in saying that the thing itself must be examined, and, if it is found good, embraced, even if some who seem to pursue it have fallen to the very bottom of vice; and if shameful, fled, even if some who seem attached to it seem to have reached the very summit of virtue? For virtue must be embraced even if all who do not judge rightly blame it, and vice fled even if all lovers of evil proclaim it. For one must take verdicts about things not from the sick but from the healthy. For if we follow the sick, we shall condemn even philosophy.

To Eudaemon. [On "She shall be called woman, because she was taken out of her man."] You said that "She shall be called woman, because she was taken out of her man" was said without reason. I say that it was written not only with reason but wonderfully; and hear how. The word gyne (woman) is from gone (generation). "She shall be called woman," then, that is, fruitful, because she was taken from her [man] who would make her fruitful. For the man, uniting with the virgin, makes her a woman, that is, fruitful. That is why among the Athenians lawful union was said to take place "for the ploughing of children," and those who bear children are called parents (goneis). Those who say it comes from gyia, that is, limbs, do not deserve a word. For to a limb and part, the whole and the all are opposed; but to the woman, the man, that is, the farmer who sows and digs the woman's field (from which, I think, he is also called aner), while she is the earth that is sown and thereby becomes fruitful; for "human being" is a name common to both. For I think this too belongs to relative terms. As soon as you say "man," "woman" comes into the mind with it; just as when "father" is said, "child" is understood with it, and when "master" is said, "slave" is thought of together.

To Dioscorus. You must be grateful not only for the benefits you have received but also for being prevented from doing wrong. For this too, even if it seems paradoxical to you, is a very great kind of benefit.

To Theodosius the bishop. Rightly, admirable friend, you now lament the city of the Pelusiotes, though you formerly called it blessed. When, like a mother in the travail of excellent children, it prided itself on the leadership of the renowned Ammonius, truly a bishop, it was rightly called blessed, being full of goods both divine and human. But when a foul, foreign beast in human form was entrusted with its stewardship, and it was brought down to the last desolation, it is rightly worthy of lamentation. Under the former, as bees settle round the queen of the swarm on the dewy flowers of the meadows, so all attended him and danced round him. For he was truly honey-dropping in his conversation and his voice, and possessed a subduing charm. But under this man (but I wish to say nothing harsh), those who are left have exchanged their festive bearing and lament their misfortunes. The cause, they say, is this: under the former the divine altar received the holiness befitting it, being attended by holy priests; under this man the polluted are admitted and the earnest driven away. Since the essentials, then, have been neglected, everything else too has been ruined. For when the sanctuaries are trodden by foul men, the city too has rightly become impassable to many. Do not, then, holy head, only lament it, but also pray that it may run back to its ancient virtue and prosperity.

To Peter. Peace blended with justice is a divine thing; but if one is without the other, it spoils the beauty of virtue. For there is peace among robbers with one another, and among wolves: for the former to the ruin of people, for the latter to the destruction of the sheep. But I would not call that peace which is not adorned with justice; if it comes together with justice, it will truly be called peace. That is why Christ too said, "I did not come to bring peace on earth, but a sword." That he rejects not every peace, but the peace yoked to vice, he says elsewhere: "My peace I give to you." For that is truly peace which takes pride in justice and piety.

To Eutonius the deacon. Do not fear, you sacred precinct of hatred for evil, those who cannot refute but refuse to be refuted; but, showing a frankness free of rashness and mixed with gentleness, expect to achieve what is fitting. And if you do not achieve it, and, as you wrote, Eusebius and those he improperly ordained speak ill of you instead of thanking you, do not lose heart. For the sleepless, all-seeing eye, which hates evil and loves good, will repay you and punish them.

To Zosimus the presbyter. Lately a discussion arose among us about virtue and vice, and when many had said many things, I said that I think all people have both faults and excellences; but that the esteemed and best have small and trivial faults and very great and extraordinary achievements, while the others have excellences either equal to their faults, or exceeding them, or exceeded by them. For there are people who are inhuman but chaste; or licentious but merciful; or very rash but easily changed; or unjust but modest; or rapacious but abstinent; or unrestrained in tongue but restrained in pleasures; or unrestrained in pleasures but restrained in tongue; or mastered by the belly but masters of anger; and, in a word, I could not easily believe that there is a man either without faults or devoid of achievements. And as proof I brought forward, for the one side, the unjust judge, who neither feared God nor respected man, yet did a good thing, taking pity on the widow who kept petitioning him and avenging her on her wrongdoers; for the other side, the saying, "Who will boast of having a pure heart, or who will claim boldly to be clean from sins?" When all present praised it and applause broke out beyond all expectation, I blushed; for I am more inclined to blush at praise than to be emboldened by it. But one of those present, esteemed in speech and life (for I would not hide the truth, even though he tried to overturn what I had said), after keeping quiet a little, excellent Zosimus, brought forward your life and tried to refute the argument, showing that all faults dance in you, but not a trace of any achievement. When I did not believe it, all present bore witness to him as speaking the truth, and said that every tongue is defeated in describing your evils exactly. When I, hearing this, kept quiet (for I thought it absurd to fight against them), they said: "We say this not to overturn your argument, most wise friend, for it is true and above all praise, but rejecting that man from the human race and defining him as a beast in human form, or an avenging demon and an enemy of nature." And almost all spoke these words as with one mouth. Some of them earnestly begged that this very thing be made known to you; perhaps you might acknowledge defeat. At first I put it off; but later, yielding to their entreaties, I promised to write. It would be yours, then, to consider your own affairs at last, so that you may be freed from ridicule, laughter and punishment. And if, thinking that death sends one into non-existence, you sin without fear, you are deceiving yourself without knowing it. For death, which seems to wither the noble plant, is nothing other than the separation of soul and body. If you do not believe it, hear Plato saying: "When death comes upon a man, the mortal part of him, it seems, dies, but the immortal part goes away safe and incorruptible, having withdrawn before death."

To Isidore the deacon. [On "Anointing will be destroyed," and what follows.] Affairs, namesake, are composed of priesthood and kingship. For even if they differ greatly from one another (the one is like the soul, the other the body), they look to one end, the salvation of their subjects. That is why, when Jewish affairs were beginning, the priesthood, being more necessary, was established and lasted a long time; but when, being more fleshly and grosser, they also asked for a king, kingship too was given, being most useful and checking the faults of those who did not obey the priesthood. Since, then, they shone in one respect by having the priesthood and were preserved in another by acquiring kingship, and when both were taken away no ground of salvation was left to them, the prophet Daniel, wishing to show the complete destruction of Jewish affairs after the cross, and that not even a remnant of good hope would be left them nor any better expectation appear, said, "Anointing will be destroyed, and there will be no judgment in it." By "anointing" he signified the priesthood; by "judgment," kingship and the civil order. For indeed, by the abolition of the priesthood he showed together that of kingship and of everything else; for when the chief and most sovereign thing is wholly dissolved, nothing else could stand, since the foundation of kingship too was piety toward God, which was judged by the worship of God. Yet he also said that the kingship would end, foretelling the complete abolition of the Jewish polity. And the facts bear witness, having been led up to a far better and more divine religion.

To the same. [On what is written in the law, "You shall not pity a poor man in judgment."] Since the one in need needs someone to give, and the one in dispute someone to judge, the law does not wish poverty to be meddlesome but to entreat. And if, leaving entreaty, it turns to false accusation, it would not deserve to be pitied in judgment. That is why it said, "You shall not pity a poor man in judgment." For one must pity him, not when he is on trial, but when he is entreating. And if he turns entreating into accusing, justice must be put before pity; for it is not just that justice be corrupted.

To the same. Not wealth, not strength, not eloquence, not a brilliant or more than brilliant rank, not the prefects' throne, not the purple and the diadem naturally dignify those who have them as virtue and philosophy do. Why, then, are most people excited about those things and care less for these? Because some hunt appearances before realities; some prefer the immediate to what will be useful a little later; some have a corrupted judgment of things; and some do not even think there is anything after this life. But lovers of virtue honour virtue for its own sake and pursue it dreaming of the crowns to come.