Letters 3.351–3.389

To Antonius the scholasticus. The contest of virginity is great, brilliant and divine (for the war is against the body's innate pleasure), but in other matters it lightens the labours. For she will easily master love of money, caring for neither bodily adornment nor husband and children, for whose sake getting money seems necessary to those who do not practise philosophy; and she will be beyond the reach of mourning. For she has not put forth branches with which cares and griefs blossom together; for while children live, parents must worry, and when they die, mourn. She dwells outside pains and despondencies, neither enslaved to a husband's will nor cut short by labour pains, the neighbours of death. Outdone in esteem, she is not jealous; loved, she is not puffed up. She does not flatter one who turns away, nor fawn on one who hates, nor turn away from one who insults; but the fight against innate desire is a release from all these incurable evils, and when she masters it she holds all those things in subjection. That is why the one who examined exactly the nature of human affairs wrote of those who endure all difficulties merely in order not to be overcome by the frenzy of desire: "Such will have affliction in the flesh, and I would spare you." But many dishonour the apostolic counsel as not shown by facts, and, in truth pleading for pleasure, say that those who embrace marriage have not affliction but delight and luxury; and many, using cleverness and thinking themselves braver than those crowned with purity, say improperly that it is a sign of an ignoble soul. "For dedicating themselves to the holy rites of celibacy," they say, "they shut the passages of generation, remained uninitiated in marriage, and, showing youthful bravado against the changes of affairs by being stripped of necessities, do something like a man who, being bodiless, boasts of being invulnerable. For they too, fearing the unexpected attacks of unwelcome things, dishonoured the ordinance of begetting children, fortifying themselves against changes by childlessness and procuring invulnerability through it. But we, giving ourselves up to the unexpected turns of change, and not ranged against it in the order of light-armed troops, did not stand outside the phalanx; but, setting our way of life under the very arrows and giving them abundant room to strike where they would, we fenced ourselves against it, so as to be wounded without being struck and to be shot at with blunted arrows; and confirming the doctrine in the trial of difficulties, that virtue owns no master in change, we bring forth the most exact test." Since, then, stringing together such things, they declaim against it, ashamed at having been left behind in the contests of virginity but thinking to put forward a plausible defence, they will know by the facts at the time of the prizes how great a hindrance to salvation a husband is to a wife, a wife to a husband, and the cares of wife and children; and they are refuted even now, being driven to the bottom of evils by the very things through which some expected to enjoy luxury and ease, and others to be thought worthy of greater crowns. For to what passions are they not subject? What trading do they not handle? How many disagreeable things do they endure without perceiving it? What good thing does not ride past them? What praiseworthy thing dwells with them? And I say this not disowning those who embrace honourable marriage (far from it), but mocking those who with an unbarred and slippery tongue dare to set marriage above virginity. For as far as heaven differs from earth and soul from body, so far does virginity differ from marriage. The one holds the first place in the battle line, adorns the front of the phalanx and sets up the brilliant trophies; the other, being moderate and given as a support to the weaker, can save those who keep it, but will not lead them up to the summit of virginity. That is why the spiritual law forbade those who had married and planted vineyards to go out to the war against the spiritual forces of evil. Let not those held by such a bond, then, think to compete with those who are loosed; for it is not possible. Nor let those who have devoted their whole life to money-making and bodily adornment think they will receive prizes equal to those who have dedicated themselves and care for the things of the Lord; but keeping themselves in the proper rank, let them not arm their tongue against those who have gone up to the heavenly summit. For marriage is not evil (far from it!), but a lawful and moderate good. But the evils dragged along with marriage are enough to blunt even the pleasure of marriage. And even if none of these followed, even so it would not deserve to be compared with virginity. And what does not allow me, though in haste, to run past it must be said: virginity masters the other passions too, while marriage is caught by the other passions too. For who, to supply food for his children, does not do everything unfitting and throw himself into dangers, into the sea, and to be the food of beasts? And these want to pride themselves as brave and victorious! And who will bear it? What time will suffice them to heal these wounds? Who will not share the pain of those wounded by so many arrows? For such evils surround them as cannot be thought or told for their number. Let them, then, stop such words and not arm their tongue against virginity, but honour her as queen and be ranked under her, so that they may have her as shield-bearer and ambassador. For (to use heavenly examples too) it is right to compare those who keep virginity to the sun, those who keep continence to the moon, and those who embrace and keep honourable marriage to the stars, the divine Paul above all casting his vote and saying, "There is one glory of the sun, another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars." [Letter 3.352] I would define as properly alive only the man who is superior to and above the bodily passions. For the one who has yoked himself to them and is driven by them with force not only ends in the lowest pit, but cannot even live here, because of the griefs, fears and dangers that come from them, and their countless swarm. If death is expected, he has died before death from fear; if disease, insult, poverty or anything else unexpected, he has perished and been ruined by the mere suspicion. But not so the one who masters the passions: he stands above fears, dangers and every change, not by suffering nothing (that is perhaps impossible), but, what is much greater and makes the trophy more extraordinary, by despising them as they attack, skirmish and shoot at him.

To Timothy, a man of the highest rank. Even if Chaeremon, as you wrote, the shield-bearer of Eusebius, sharpened by his company, is goaded to every vice and knows no faith, but uses oaths with licence for injustice (he makes truces and remains in undeclared war; he makes covenants and breaks them; he swears and has oaths as a provision for villainy), yet the one who applauds him, in my judgment, now reaps the blame for his vices, and later will reap the greater part of the punishment too.

To Paul the presbyter. For one consecrated, wealth is the adornment of virtue, pleasure is chastity, luxury is self-sufficiency, and gladness is the progress of his subjects in virtue. But if someone practising the opposite prides himself on the name of priesthood, he is unholy and unworthy of the office.

To Martyrius the presbyter. [On the Arians and Eunomians.] If the one who describes the divine generation were to follow human passions in everything (which it is not even right to say), he would deserve to hear: "If you imagine passion in the begetting, I may do so in the creating. For what is created is not created without passion either, if I follow the weak reasonings of human beings." But if, in a manner worthy of God, he accepts what suits the pure essence and rides past what is discordant, he ought to understand, if he has his reasoning sound, that since the mortal begets in this way, the immortal does not; just as in creating, the one creates with toil and the other without labour. The many-eyed mind, understanding this and as if inspired, running past all earthly examples, rightly defined the Son as "the radiance of the glory" and "the imprint of the hypostasis" of the Father, showing by the one his co-eternity and by the other that he subsists in himself. For since the first perhaps produced in some the fancy of something without subsistence, by the second he characterized the subsistence that produces subsistences. [Another letter] You seem not to perceive what happens even now, and for that reason to have written asking why, when Darius the Mede appointed three presidents (of whom Daniel was one) to rule over the hundred and twenty officials appointed by him, Scripture, in comparing him, when it should have compared him only with his equals, compared him also with those far beneath him. For, you said, his superiority over his colleagues was enough to show his victory over those under them. But now it says, "And Daniel was above the presidents and the satraps"; that is, he was shown wiser and more fit for administration, not only than the two outstanding ones but also than those after them. The solution of the question is this. Since the king's judgment, not being sound, might often bring the baser into office (which tends to happen not only in kingdoms but also in churches; for why should one wonder if those entrusted with worldly affairs make such mistakes, when this unreason has burst even into the sanctuary?), and since there were some in the multitude who surpassed these in understanding, Scripture necessarily made the comparison of the righteous man not with the two presidents only (that is, the leaders of the military ranks, who draw them up wherever needed, in war or in peace), but also with all the others, crowning him not from the opinion of the ruler, which often errs, but from the truth of the facts. For he surpassed not only those whom the king thought intelligent but also those who really were. That is why the king set him over the whole kingdom, since he was plainly seen from the facts to be better than the rest; while the others resolved to stitch together plots and intrigues. For envy naturally campaigns against success.

To Isaiah. See that your unsurpassable arrogance does not compel the divine and most gentle nature to display its own power, which can both hand you over to utter destruction here and exact the bitterest penalties there.

To the same. The one who is superior to money does not think fit to do anything against the law either toward those abounding in wealth or toward those fighting with poverty, that beast hard to admonish. For he neither wrongs the former by seizing their money nor the latter by corrupting justice with a bribe.

To Ausonius the corrector. Since flattery is clever at stealing the mind not only of the brave but also of the sensible, I rightly say that it is more powerful than fear. For many are ashamed to yield to fear, but are gladly defeated by flattery, giving themselves up without judgment or examination.

To Leontius. Do not wonder, excellent friend, nor let your spirit be shot beyond what is fitting, if, though Zosimus's freedom of speech has been shut, as you wrote, not by lattices and doors, which some might open, but by so many and such great charges, he still has an unbarred tongue. For just as it is the custom of those who do well to be modest after their achievements, so it is the custom of sinners to be lifted up after their faults. If you want proof of this, see what the three young men say, who were shown superior to fire through their righteousness: "We have sinned, we have done lawlessly, we have done wrong." But the Jews, who left no sin undone and no shameful word unsaid, said, "We have kept your ordinances and your statutes; and now we call the arrogant blessed." Do not, then, be troubled yourself, nor utter anything discordant or unseemly, knowing that this above all is a sign of his utter derangement.

To Hierax, a man of the highest rank. Not a bronze statue flashing with gold is worthy of your deed, but a life without end. For time destroys the one, while ages that know no end crown the other.

To Hermogenes the bishop. As speech without action is incomplete, so is action without speech. For by both of these, even if those who think eloquent wisdom a base and trodden thing unreasonably do not wish it, the upright and brilliant life of guides is characterized. "For whoever does and teaches will be called great in the kingdom of heaven." But if one must compare the two, it is better to act without speaking than to speak without acting.

To Apollonius the bishop. Since it neither is nor seems seemly to force and drag to piety those who have been made with free will, use persuasion where there is occasion for it, and enlighten by your own life those who live in darkness.

To Nilammon the deacon. Those who stumble and do not dare to approach the holy mysteries are right-minded and will quickly come round to not sinning. But those who both offend and dare to touch the undefiled mysteries with foul hands, one of whom, as you wrote, is Zosimus, deserve countless punishments. For they make themselves guilty, according to Paul's truthful voice, of the body and the blood of the Lord. That is why the devil does not attack the former much, knowing that, though they stumble, they still keep reverence for divine things; but against the latter, who offend and either do not know it, or know it but despise it, and dare to touch the holy mysteries, he bursts in wholly, rightly thinking this a sign of their insensibility and complete corruption. This he did in the case of the traitor too. For he did not enter him, as you think, in contempt of the Lord's body, but because he recognized his wickedness, that he was now incurably sick: intending to betray, yet not declining to partake, he went off leading him. For if he had seen him reverent toward the divine mystery and declining it, he would perhaps have passed him by as still sober. But when he saw him heavy-headed with love of money, no longer having right reason but carried away by insatiable drunkenness, and even daring to touch what such a man ought not to touch, condemning his insensibility, he went into him wholly.

To Taurus the prefect. The right rule of justice is kept, you most truthful touchstone of the virtue of rule, when judgment follows the accusation, proof follows judgment, and the verdict follows proof, fixing the punishment by the quality of the sin.

To Martinianus, Zosimus, Maron and Eustathius. You are in danger, I hear, of having your ears fenced with despair, and, as though you had long since devoted yourselves to punishment, of being provoked against those who give you the best advice. But I pray that you may recover from your madness, not because I shall suffer harm if you do not recover (unless one counts the despondency that comes to me from it), for in respect of my reward I shall lose nothing; but because your salvation is dearer to me than enjoying rewards. If anyone disbelieves, he will be found far from a friendly disposition and caught seeking only his own. And if, refuted, he turns to shamelessness and says that no human being has achieved this, he will be refuted by Moses, beloved of God, and by Paul, most wise: the one prayed to be blotted out of the divine book if the Jews were not forgiven; the other even prayed to be accursed so that all the Jews might believe. And if he says again, "Do you compare yourself with those men?", I would say that, falling short of almost all people in all other excellences (I do not say of these two only), I hold eagerly to this alone: wishing all to be saved, as far as lies with us.

To Hermogenes and Lampetius, bishops. Since, as you wrote, Eusebius, very clever at rebuking others, charging them with falsehoods and fabricating absurd complaints, is himself guilty above all of what he charges, and thinks to escape notice by this device, let him learn that his cleverness will prove folly. And it is precisely this that does not escape notice: that by scheming to escape notice he is caught all the more.

To Zosimus the presbyter. The maddened and raging passions of the flesh must be tamed, domesticated and soothed, and if they do not obey, punished as far as possible. But you, as they say, giving them the reins, are led wherever they wish; and they wish to end in ruin and destruction. So that you may not be shot to the bottom of evils, take care to rein them in.

To Eustathius the deacon. If the reasoning part of your soul had been damaged from birth, or destroyed by some incurable diseases, you would perhaps have obtained pardon for what you do. But if you have not suffered this, but have buried it, or rather deadened it, by unsurpassable carelessness, you get no pardon from those who see you. For though you could rekindle it with the needed care, you not only take no thought that this should happen, but even contrive that it never may. For vice has so outdone virtue with you that it is not even thought vice. If, then, you wish to be rid of ridicule, look up a little, so that, knowing to what point of evil you have been shot, you may hasten to run back. [Letter 3.370] To Herminus the count. Many victors who acquired courage preserved their subjects by humanity, and those whom they enslaved unwillingly, they won over willingly. For courage is clever at acquiring what one does not have, but gentleness is better at keeping what has been acquired. But those who boast of being disciples of the gentle Victor and soldiers of the heavenly King drive away by arrogance, against their will, those whom his shield-bearers at the beginning won over willingly by gentleness. For those whom the former brought willingly under rule, these drive away even against their will by their own tyranny. For they behave toward their subjects as destroyers and avenging spirits, not as shepherds. "What, then, must we do?" you asked. Nothing else than to practise virtue and await the divine tribunal.

To Theodosius the presbyter. The one who has chosen the most self-controlled and self-sufficient life is brilliant and great in soul, but cheap in living; for being worth much, he spends little. But the one who honours a luxurious life and pursues an inflamed table is low and small in soul and devoid of graces, but costly in living; for being worth nothing, he spends very much. That is why the former, content with little, thinks himself very rich; while the latter, spending much, throws his foul hands on his neighbours' property, and so thinks himself very poor. Who of the sensible, then, will not emulate the former and hate the latter?

To Theon the presbyter. [On Maron.] I was greatly pleased to learn that your opponent at law rushed against you, meaning to prevail by a mere shout, but was thrown, as in the Olympic contests, defeated by your philosophy. [Letter 3.373] To Herminus, Dorotheus and Hierax, men of the highest rank. The one who practises virtue has a brilliant crown; but the one who does well yet does not think he has done well will have, for that very disposition, a more brilliant crown. For not thinking one has done well, while doing well, weighs as much as the achievements themselves. Rather, when present it shows them great, and when absent it shrinks even the greatest. The one, then, who wishes to make his achievements great, so that they may then be great, let him not think them great, and

To Archontius the presbyter. Virtue usually adorns both prosperity and adversity; but education seems to be the ornament of the one and the harbour of the other. If, then, it is possible to have both, it would be well. But if one is lacking, it is better to choose virtue. For to be best rather than to seem so is, in my judgment, preferable. [Letter 3.375] Those who have enjoyed the sight of you sing wonderful things about you: that, being a statue of gentleness and having modesty blossoming on your face, you check in advance by the sternness of your eyes those who have chosen to offend, showing calm to those who live rightly and fear to the careless. For you hold out the one to the wronged and arm the other against wrongdoers. Use, then, admirable friend, these admirable excellences to the end. [Letter 3.376] To someone unknown. He who, among his other great and wonderful titles which signify, as far as possible, the magnificence of his divine nature, deigned to be called Word, does not hate words, nor does Wisdom disown wisdom. But he drives both out of the sacred precincts when they praise vice and applaud idolatry. If they do none of these things, he both embraces and welcomes them, and makes them table-companions and fellow guests of the holy assemblies.

To Germanus the count. Not the one who conquers the barbarians outside would rightly be called victor, but the one who masters the war within, that of the pleasures. Many who conquered the former were shamefully and pitiably captured by the latter. [Letter 3.378] Your friend, caught in a very great storm of affairs and having set every device in motion, like pilots whose skill the storm has swamped, is tossing in prayers. Pray, then, yourself too, that he may prove stronger than the storm.

To Theodore the scholasticus. One must be neither a boaster nor a flatterer, but, restraining the excess of both these vices, be free, neither inclining to self-will nor falling into servility.

To Timothy the scholasticus. Learn, most wise and most eloquent friend, what you seem in danger of not knowing: that if it happens that friends or enemies quarrel with each other, they will not contend in the same way; the former will quarrel as men who will be reconciled, the latter as men who will keep the war without truce.

To Dorotheus, a man of the highest rank. I call both modest and great-minded the man who achieves very great things but does not lay claim to glory for doing great things, but hides his excellences in silence and does not attack his neighbours. By doing great things he showed greatness of mind; by hiding them, modesty. For the great-minded must be contrasted with the small-minded, not with the humble. He thinks small who dreams of earthly things; great, who seeks things above the world. That is why humility happens to be born of a great and lofty mind, and boastfulness of a small and base one. And one should call right-minded, not humble, the man who stumbles but confesses and acknowledges his fault, as the tax collector did. Vainglorious is the man who wishes to be glorified for what he does not do; glory-loving, the one who prides himself on what he does; arrogant, the one who acts but gives himself airs and reproaches others; magnanimous, the one who bears prosperity with moderation and adversity nobly; small-souled, the one who does and suffers the opposite of the magnanimous.

To the same. Even if, as you wrote, the speech gave birth to the applause, still the applause strengthened the speech, appearing as a support to its parent. But since applause often unnerves the speech and corrupts the character of the speaker, leading him to conceit, I advise your understanding above all to give thanks to God, who has given such a gift; and if you also wish to praise (for, as you said, it is impossible not to repay the speech with applause), praise the speech as you wish, but do not weave immoderate praises of me, lest you make me conceited.

To Diogenes the presbyter. Those seem to me to commit kindred sins who pass over the truth in silence about the greatest achievements (for they waste away with envy, a most grievous passion, without share in pardon among the sensible) and those who readily praise those devoid of all good report. For they take on the ill repute of flatterers, trying to extol those who need correction.

To Timothy, a man of the highest rank. That your gentleness is not contemptible nor your courage savage (for humanity restrains cruelty), we all know. But that you must also bind on the other virtues, so that you may shine in all, learn this from me.

To Theodosius the presbyter. The terrible pirate does not simply attack those who sail this storm-filled sea, but first, having sounded them out and learned the inclinations and impulses of the soul, he makes his attempt and weaves his devices. For why did he not push Judas into sexual immorality but into betrayal? Because he saw that part secured, but the part concerning love of money tottering and rotten. For from his theft from the money-box he hoped to rush him easily into betrayal too. Prying into each person's impulses and assents, then, and leaving no moment or hour, he supplies fuel from outside and wounds him where he perceives him to be inclined. The esteemed man, then, must be secured on every side. For often he has captured a way of life, like a city fortified with impregnable walls, through one rotten part, showing the strength of the other walls to be vain.

To Elisha the monk. [On the Arians and Eunomians.] If holy Daniel, seeing an angel and admiring the beauty of what he saw, fell on his face, astounded at the extraordinary sight, what defence will they have who dare to mediate between Father and Son and try to weigh the ineffable nature with words?

To Leontius the bishop. I do not admire you, palace of purity, for the priesthood, but because you obtained it fittingly. For many have burst into it unholily; but those who obtained the honour rightly and showed themselves to the end not only above blame but worthy of wonder deserve to be proclaimed by all. Since you are one of them, look round your affairs with countless eyes, lest something overlooked spoil so great a virtue.

To Hierax the presbyter. [On reading, against the Greeks. On the grace of the divinely inspired Scriptures, and the benefit from them.] The divine and heavenly oracles seem to those who have no love of the beautiful to be mere letters; but to those who love to contemplate things above the world they are flowery meadows, teeming as with heavenly nectar with pure flowers. For even merely spoken they suffice to astound; and they do not allow those who understand them to be idle, but make them turn all their intellectual perception to themselves, so that before they have exactly beheld what is present they long for what follows, and having beheld that, seek what they left behind, and having seen the third, do not know what to wonder at. For sending the mind inside the letter, they are filled with such wonder and such grace that they can no longer take in anything of earthly affairs, not even if all things fought over flowed to them, forgetfulness having overcome what they formerly admired.

To Diogenes the magistrianus. [On what is written, "If you see your enemy's beast of burden fallen under its load, you shall not pass by but help raise it."] In the Old Covenant too, wise friend (since you argue with us from it alone, leaving aside the New), the most gentle nature legislated for us, if not openly or expressly, yet in a riddle, to be reconciled with our enemy, saying, "If you see your enemy's beast of burden fallen under its load, you shall not pass by, but help raise it." And if you cannot gaze into the depth of the oracle, I will try to interpret it for you and unfold the lawgiver's intention. For he decreed this not so much caring for the animal as above all for the sake of the people themselves. For the enemy, coming to help raise the fallen animal, will certainly speak with his enemy and say, "You lift from there, and I from here." And conversation is the prelude of reconciliation and a road leading to friendship. The divine serenity, then, was eager to achieve three excellent things: first, that the animal should not perish; second, that its master should suffer no loss; third, that the enemies should be reconciled to friendship. For the one who has been treated well, even if he were more insensible than stones, will be eager to repay his benefactor; and the one who has registered someone as a benefactor will surely no longer define him as an enemy. You see how the ineffable wisdom legislates looking to goodness and love for humankind