Letters 5.71–5.118

To Isidore the presbyter. The best of men, since they observe the nature of things, as far as possible, with a pure and healthy mind, bear all their changes with moderation. For just as famous tragic actors are admired for taking on every role, so the most excellent, being as it were contestants in life, adapt themselves gracefully to whatever is given. Look at the celebrated Job, who, esteemed in wealth, shone even more in poverty; and, admired in the one, was admired more in the other. For it is possible to behave disgracefully in wealth and to behave gracefully when in the grip of poverty. But those who have no sense, not bearing to track down the root of evils, assign the verdict of evil to things that cause little or no grief; when they ought to blame their own unmanliness, they condemn circumstances. [Letter 5.72] To Gennadius. Even if what is about to be said needs greater hearers than you can be, still it will be said: if anyone gathered in words all the blessedness there has been since human beings came to be and collected it into one, he would not find it comparable to the ten-thousandth part of the good things to come; but the things here fall short in worth of the least of those even more than shadows and dreams fall short of real things; or rather, to use a more fitting image, as much as the soul is more precious than the body, so much do those things surpass these. [Letter 5.73] To Heron the scholasticus. One of the seven celebrated sages advised: "Nothing in excess." And Plato, the chief of philosophers, said: "Truly, doing anything in excess tends to repay it with a great change to the opposite, in seasons, in plants, in bodies, and not least in constitutions." Which of them, then, have you chosen to follow, the summit of the sages, or rather the summit of the philosophers? You would do right to obey both; for the one gave the advice, and the other also showed the reason why one must obey the advice.

To Lampetius the deacon. One who sins but knows it seems to me better than one who both sins and does not know it. For the one has a right judgement of things, the other a corrupted one; the one will walk toward repentance, the other will end in insensibility; the one will blush when he stumbles, the other will not even blush. For how will he blush who does not even know that he is stumbling? That is why the one who examined the nature of things precisely said: "Not only do they do them, but they also approve of those who practise them," rightly defining praising as worse than doing. So one must urge the first to repentance, and create in the other a perception of what is happening. For unless he perceives it, he will not stop sinning either.

To Diogenes the deacon. On ingratitude. I greatly blame you, because the favour has died with you which, when you were in need, you then affirmed you would keep immortal. Know, then, that if you fall into misfortune again, you will have no one to help you; for those who forget favours are necessarily at a loss for helpers.

To Asclepius the sophist. I define as truly brave the man whom neither the difficulty of circumstances nor the plotting of enemies has shown up. For since most people are usually caught by such things, the man who is not found easily captured in what he does not want, but bears even abuse decorously, makes plots an occasion for glory, and does not sink into servile flatteries but keeps his spirit higher than his plotters, this man is brave in my judgement. For since in prosperity it is very easy even for cowards to show spirit, but difficulties sift the good, I for my part define as bravest the man who is moderate in prosperity and unhumbled in difficult circumstances. [Letter 5.77] To Martinianus, Zosimus and Maron. If, as some say, not even the very able, who have made speaking an art, readily dare to pillory your tragedies (for they fear the refutation of those now living and the disbelief of those to come; for they say that the former know more than they could tell, and the latter will think that you did less than will be told), what is this incurable madness that has driven you in frenzy to do such things as will both refute the ablest speakers now and make later generations disbelieve? For they will not readily be willing to believe that human beings did such things as not even accursed demons would have dared to do. Those who see what is being acted out will think the words weaker than the tragedies; those who hear will think them greater. The one will think that the speech could not be made equal to the deed; the others will suppose that what happened has been inflated and exaggerated. The one will vote that the orators were defeated, the others that they went too far. For they will say of the one that they fell short of the subject, of the others that they overshot it. If, then, everything one could say is small compared with your abomination, stop doing such things as will both refute those now living and make those to come disbelieve. [Letter 5.78] To Eugenius the deacon. Know, blessed man, that if you are esteemed in everything, your not yet having received rewards will turn out not to your receiving none, but to your receiving more brilliant ones. For the one who receives something here receives something brilliant; but the one who does not will have a more brilliant crown there. So do not let what is a source of gladness become a cause of despondency for you. For to the one who has received here, the reward is rightly cut down; but for the one who has not received, it is clearly kept intact.

To Cyril the bishop. Your understanding surely knows that unjust gain is not fit even for almsgiving, and that the greed of those who manage the church of the Pelusiotes knows no satiety. You would do excellently, then, if you stopped the greed of those who administer the church's funds. For if providing necessities to the needy from injustice is not holy, then not even providing them to the needy, but locking them up in one's own treasuries, is altogether most unholy. Let them learn, then, that they must both distribute purely to the poor what rightly belongs to them and keep clean of all injustice: first because the Judge so decrees; then because they are not grasping even for the sake of those for whom they claim to care, but out of eagerness to fill their own treasuries. For if you quench the greed of the administrators, the poor will enjoy great plenty.

To Harpocras the sophist. One who is able to bring a strong solution to questions that are really disputed rightly does not fear to make the objection harder. But one who is not able, who displays the power of his words in the objection but appears weak in the solution, unwittingly makes his own defeat more conspicuous. For one who was going to be defeated ought not to have fought like that at the start; or rather, if one must speak exactly, he will be caught as a traitor to the truth, since the power of words he showed in the objection he did not show in the solution.

To Zosimus. If you do not wish to be reproached and to undergo punishments (I do not mean here, though even that is no small thing to a sensible man, but in the courts that exist, whether on earth or anywhere at all in the universe), shake off your indolence and hold fast to virtue. [Letter 5.82] To Artemidorus. The one who has done everything that rested with him to persuade, and has not persuaded, would deserve to be admired as if he had succeeded; so far is he from deserving blame. If this seems astonishing to you, Paul will cast his vote with me, saying: "Each will receive his own reward according to his own labour"; he did not say, according to the outcome of the toil. For the one who has left undone none of the things he ought to have done is rightly worthy of crowns.

To Paul the deacon. I consider that man a splendid host, not the one who entertains his guests at a swollen table and causes satiety to run riot, but the one who mixes with the sufficiency of what has been prepared a rational exhortation, whose benefit naturally reaches the soul as well.

To Martinianus, Zosimus, Maron and Eustathius. Even if many have despaired of your salvation, I come again, to advise you to depart from wickedness, to urge you on to virtue, to forewarn you of the wages that will be paid to the wicked and to announce beforehand the prizes that will be given to the lovers of virtue. If, then, you have not utterly killed your reasoning faculty, but it has some spark that can flare up, fan it and kindle it. Perhaps you may come to know this, even if late.

To Hierax the deacon. I greatly wonder how robbers, who brandish naked swords and arm themselves against those who do no wrong, once they have shared salt, are no longer robbers toward those with whom they have made a truce, but the table reshapes their implacable character; while we, who are counted worthy of the divine table, wage a truceless war with one another.

To Casius the scholasticus. If you were watching for the father's death in order to take revenge on his children, you show yourself overcome by two ignoble passions, cowardice and resentment. For since you could do nothing against him, you will give proof against yourself of cowardice; and by being eager to take revenge on them, of resentment. But if you do not take revenge on them either, you will also rub off the suspicion of cowardice. For you will seem even then to have given way not from fear, but to have practised philosophy in deed.

To Isaiah. Do not, my good man, turn to worse because of the very things that ought to make you more temperate, and do not think the occasion of salvation a pretext for ruin; but, respecting the divine patience, take hold of virtue. For the Judge will not bear being despised to the end, but will bring down his mighty hand. That is why he warns beforehand and makes his defence in advance, that his verdict against the guilty is not passed without trial: "Why," he says, "have I kept silent? Shall I always keep silent and endure? I will astonish and dry up at once"; all but saying: if you acknowledge your fault, that is what I spoke of before; but if you persist, my part is free of blame. For you forced the punishment to come upon yourselves.

To Paul. The man of good repute must be stronger than misfortunes. And this will be so if he makes his reason master, higher than the passions, and allows it, like a helmsman, to handle and steer the rudder. But if he sinks the helmsman, he will suffer a most grievous shipwreck, as the passions rise in crests and send reason down to the very bottom of the sea.

To Eusebius the presbyter. Even if, as you have written, the reverence of the emperors toward God has shown up the irreverence of the bishops, and the excessive honour they pay them has slackened those so honoured, and their great generosity has become for them an occasion of luxury and prodigality, still, do not be scandalized. For not all have been overcome by the passions mentioned; there are some who strive to live according to the apostolic stamp. And if you say, "Very few," I would not deny it myself; but in this too I would admire the foreknowledge of the Saviour, who said: "Many are called, but few are chosen." [Letter 5.90] To Marcian the presbyter. Do not lend your ears to those who make up stories. For if you readily believe accusers, there will be no lack of people who lie and fabricate. But, if you will, keep your ears unprejudiced, and the accused will defend himself very nobly, and you will turn upon them the grief that grew up in vain against him. [Letter 5.91] The divine Paul's words are not about the rest of the Hebrews that came about in Palestine through the generalship of Joshua the son of Nun; he has no concern with that, but looks to the rest that is expected to come, and the aim of his thoughts is directed toward it. That this is true he himself interprets, saying: "For if Jesus" (clearly the son of Nun) "had given them rest, he would not have spoken of another day after these things; so then there remains a sabbath rest for the people of God." For if, he says, that man had given them rest, David, who lived many generations later, would not have said, when speaking of rest: "Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts." Therefore, he says, true rest is laid up for the people of God, that is, for those who after their faith have lived in an approved way, prepared not in Palestine but in the Jerusalem above the world. [Letter 5.92] Having decided to send you an exhortation, my friend, I want first to go over with you how my close friends were disposed when I shared with them my intention of giving advice. Some of them were very much afraid that by this forethought I might create an occasion of enmity. For you would think that, under the form of a proposal, I had preferred … those who would dare to cause grief. … Then … to speak ill. So they said they would wonder if a war worse than the Persian did not break out over these words. But there were also some who urged me to be quite confident, since you would welcome it, and they said they were so far from expecting anything terrible that they expected even a public proclamation because of it. To me both seem partly to have hit the truth and partly to have missed it. For I am convinced that at first you will be indignant, but not at all in the end; and I expect you to welcome me in your own mind, though least of all in front of everyone. Yet expecting both, I shall not refrain from saying what comes to mind. First, the best people will be on my side, restraining not only you but also the others … and if it should befall me to suffer while pleading for virtue, it is no hardship to suffer this. What, then, is it that I want to say? It will be said; let the die be cast. Above all, stop thrusting the sword against yourself, treating yourself more barbarously than any barbarian, and doing yourself such harm as not even your bitterest enemies would have done. But if you have decided to cling tightly to wickedness, and this resolve is immovable with you, at least stop warring against the nurslings of virtue. For not only to stumble, but also to disparage those who do right, against whom you arm your tongue, is the utmost limit of wickedness, or rather a proof of insensibility.

To Palladius the deacon. You belonged to the company of the disciples and seemed to be its leader, pursuing the hunt for divine words more vigorously than the others; but now, having grown careless, you have not only decided to drop out, but have even given yourself up, as I learned, to luxuries, which give birth to the passions that lie below the belly. Knowing, then, that evil becomes more grievous when neglected, reshape yourself as quickly as possible to your original decorum. [Letter 5.94] To Serenus the deacon. For many, immediate successes come as an ambush, being the prelude to incurable evils. So let us not seek such victories in everything, but let us become one who manages all that happens evenly and moderately, with fitting bearing and spirit.

To Athanasius. If one must sketch virtue and vice briefly in words, I would say: just as fire, being fettered against downward motion, is ever moving in its upward course, so too is virtue. And just as heavy bodies know nothing at all of upward motion but know the downward rush, the weight increasing the motion so that its speed is beyond words, so too is wickedness. So we must hold fast to the one and keep away from the other.

To Eutonius the deacon. That all who fall into temptations usually see their own misfortunes more clearly in the good fortune of their neighbours is plain. But I would confidently maintain that, if they consider either their own healing or their being proved (for some pay the penalty for sins, and others contend so as to win more brilliant crowns), they ought to bear temptations more easily, and not only not be distressed, but even be filled with gladness. That some are healed here Paul guarantees, crying out: "When we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined, so that we may not be condemned along with the world." And that some contend for the sake of crowns is witnessed by the divine oracle spoken to Job: "Do you think I have dealt with you for any other reason than that you might be shown to be righteous?" So whether we suffer in this way or in that, let us have good hopes.

To Theodore the scholasticus. Do not do violence to the truth with contentious arguments, nor insult it by overshadowing exact knowledge with sophistic art; but, considering everything second to what is true, cast your vote on it without trafficking and without bribery.

To Apollonius the farmer. Farming is both necessary and the mother and nurse of all the arts. For when it goes well, they too are strong; but when it fails, they are almost extinguished. So do not be ashamed of your occupation, but take pride in it, since you practise the most necessary and most useful of arts. It is those who pursue the arts that serve pleasure who ought to blush.

To Hierax the deacon. The man who saves the ship at the very height of the storm, and bridles his nature when it rages, deserves countless proclamations, blessings and crowns. For self-control in old age is not continence but an inability for licentiousness. That is why the prophet Jeremiah, proclaiming the former, said: "Blessed is he who has borne a heavy yoke from his youth." But the latter no one has thought worthy of a blessing; all have left it without honour. So do not wait for old age, as if you will be self-controlled in it. For apart from its being uncertain whether you will reach it, the thing has no honour either.

To the same. Since one must bear painful things, hard to bear though they are (for making light of them does not lessen terrible things, and perhaps even increases them), bear nobly what has happened, especially since, being past, it has for the most part lost its sinews. For a trial that has gone away at once looks toward oblivion, but one that is expected gives pain as often as it is anticipated. [Letter 5.101] To Peter. Unbelievers somehow belittle faith in God, though its knowledge is easy, its possession secure, and its end invincible.

To Harpocras the sophist. I admire your sensible frankness, which the ignoble and servile disparage, rightly thinking it a refutation of their own wickedness and cowardice. For, drunk with fear because of the wrongs they do, and shaken in their attacks on those who are purely sober, they arm their unrestrained tongues.

To Olympius the presbyter. Even if rebuking is easy and belongs to anyone, while declaring what one must do about what is fitting belongs to the best of counsellors, still the circle of Zosimus and Maron will bear neither rebuke nor counsel; they have driven into such madness that they revile those who rebuke them and slander those who counsel them. And since some, neither rebuked nor counselled, but lamented over, have come to their senses, they have tested this kind of treatment too; for they laugh at those who do it out of great affection. What then must be done? For I shall ask you in my turn, you who give us trouble and pester us as though we could drive away their madness. Would that I could! I would not have needed an adviser, but would myself have made the correction very quickly. But since the passion is stronger than all treatment and is made worse by medicines, grant them the help that comes from your holy prayers; perhaps he who overcomes passions and all wickedness will heal them.

To Heron the presbyter. We are not unaware that the beginning of the war with your opponent at law took its seed from greed and, passing through many other stages, ended in an accusation. But I advise that you would do right to be content with what has happened. For though he did much, he has suffered more; so do not let what seems the end of the battle become the beginning of greater misfortunes. Receive, then, those who plead on his behalf, and lay the matter to rest, thinking it better to yield out of kindness than to be defeated by the judgement of the judges. For the outcome is uncertain, and many fortified by countless just claims have been defeated as if they had nothing strong. And even if victory were clear, showing kindness instead will make you more illustrious than having won.

To Martinianus, Zosimus, Maron and Eustathius. The very fact that I choose to counsel you is a sufficient token and the greatest proof of my disposition toward you; for all counsel seeks the advantage of the hearers, and one cannot say that the adviser is hostile to those for whom he procures good things. But so that not even a shadow of blame may lurk, I think, for those ready to disparage, before the proposal (or rather, let the prayer be the proposal), I shall pray to God to put a better mind in you, and to make your heart obedient, so that you may embrace virtue, which has a beauty inborn and unadulterated, and banish the wickedness to which you cling so passionately, which is beastlike, and insensibility, … more disagreeable than any Scylla, yet somehow sweet to those who have lost their mind, and escape it. But if you have become altogether past feeling (for your persistence in wickedness guarantees it), then at least for the sake of those you scandalize, stop sharpening your tongues against the most divine religion; come to yourselves, and stop sending others too to the bottom of wickedness through your impiety. [A further letter] To Herminus the count. Let neither office, admirable man, nor the weight of dignity, nor worldly success be able to shake your philosophy, things which most of all tend to lift people's minds to the heights. But, considering all these things shadows and dreams, practise virtue; for this is the purple robe of those who have acquired it, which never grows old. (… are bad, have an end, and that very quickly.)

To the same. Care for the things that are immortal, and neglect those that will soon be no more. For whether the things here are good or …; but the things there know no limit and admit no end. These lines, even if few, are friendly and teeming with affection.

To Aelianus the scholasticus. We human beings often suffer many things because we neglect what deserves our care and cling passionately to what truly deserves neglect, judging things of play worthy of seriousness and things of seriousness worthy of play. For we consider our real tasks to be side-tasks, and we carry out side-tasks as necessary and primary. [Letter 5.108] But self-love, not judging rightly, produces grief in those in whom it ought least to. For one ought to grieve not when suffering justly, but when suffering unjustly.

To Philetrius. Those who are most excellent in virtue, outstanding and distinguished for piety, and surpassing others as much as the morning star surpasses the other stars, would rightly be called lights, since they have not only raised themselves to such dignity, but also give light to the blind and lead them by the hand to the height of virtue. Emulate these, then, and not those who do everything to darken even those who see.

To Harpocras the sophist. I define as wise (for I am not legislating but stating an opinion) those adorned with the intellectual virtues, such as were those who had the word and wisdom of knowledge; and as good those adorned with what some call the non-rational virtues, such as were those who could say nothing wise but educated those who saw them by their excellent way of life, whose silence was more useful than speech empty of deeds. And if someone has both the intellectual virtues and those they call non-rational, him I would define as both good and wise. [Letter 5.111] On "pardon" (syngnōmē). Since you have written asking why the word syngnōmē is used for remission and forgiveness, I think it is because the man who has come to know himself (that is, who neither in his failings is unaware that he has failed, keeping the wise saying "Know yourself," nor in his successes, if he has ever dozed a little and been lifted up to boasting, thinks highly of himself, but learns his own nature and weakness and does not imagine himself beyond human nature) acknowledges his fault. The one who "knows with" him (syngnous), that is, who perceives together with him that he is singing a recantation in deed, forgives the one who has come to know himself; but the one who does not "know with" him does not forgive. So the one deserves blame for not knowing himself, and the other for not "knowing with" the one who knows himself. [Letter 5.112] Many and various things, dearest friend, ruin the possession of money. Not only moths and long time, but also false accusations, robbers, servants, the uncertainty of the future, and finally death (which cannot be escaped, even if we escape the rest) would deprive the one who seems to possess them of both property and money; for he has his goods in names, not in reality. But the one who has stored his wealth by almsgiving and acts of kindness here would be crowned by the vote of a prudent and steadfast man, having found a place safe from plunder, on which none of the things mentioned may set foot. For such a place is heaven: inaccessible to every evildoing and more fruitful than any land, and with great abundance of the seeds sown in it, it gives those who have deposited them a harvest of fruits for ever.

To Maron. What you will often leave to your enemies even against your will, give willingly; turn necessity into generosity, so that you may not lament with unavailing regret; but by sending it ahead into the ageless world, you will have it serving you.

To Theophilus. A little while ago, while it was still early dawn (for night and daybreak were mingling), one of my close friends met me and reported that some learned men, having learned that you had set out on a long journey, not for virtue's sake, nor to lead yourself or anyone else into philosophy (for then they would have approved), but to make money, utterly despised you, since you had chosen to live in quiet in the time of your youth and now in old age had undertaken to travel; when it would have been fitting for you, even if you had formerly lived somewhere else, to return home, your death being so near. For the young have the hope of reaching a ripe old age; but the old would rightly dream of nothing else than death. Not knowing exactly the reason why you departed from here, I neither defended nor condemned you, but promised to write. Be eager, then, to do what is needful yourself. [Letter 5.115] Which man does your learning judge worthy to obtain renown and good fame: the one who was eager to accomplish nothing noble, but lives in prosperity, wealth and dignities that seem brilliant; or the one who left undone nothing of which he was capable, but did everything that makes him worthy of public praise and stirs others to virtue, but lives in misfortune and poverty? To me it is the latter; and if to you too, do not be seen to vote the opposite.

To Casius the presbyter. Since you have written that you wonder how Zosimus's being a priest, terrible as it is, does not seem terrible to the man who ordained him unlawfully, I reply that you are rightly indignant from your hatred of evil; no one would contradict that. But I would advise you to keep your tongue clean of abuse. For even if he deserves, as you have written, countless thunderbolts, since he has not been improved even by the honour but has used the priesthood as a weapon of wickedness and dares what should not be dared, still you ought not to defile your own mouth by declaiming his foul deeds and recounting the perversity of his ways. [Letter 5.117] If every thought and every reflection comes to human beings from fate, as you say, fate will be caught suffering something most absurd: if it sends down to some arguments to defend it, and to others supplies skill and scientific arguments by which they will overthrow it. If, then, it overthrows itself by the arguments it supplies to those who overthrow it, how can it stand?

To Eustathius the deacon. What you have now dared is more terrible than those terrible deeds of yours. You have competed with yourself and won; so you carry off the first prize over all in the contest of impiety and licentiousness; you have overshot and surpassed everyone. That is why you have become for us an occasion of ever-flowing tears. If, then, you wish to heal the grief we feel over you, do everything to rub off your bad reputation …