Letters 10–26

To Maximus the Philosopher

1.  Speech is really an image of mind:  so I have learned to know you from your letters, just as the proverb tells us we may know “the lion from his claws.”

I am delighted to find that your strong inclinations lie in the direction of the first and greatest of good things—love both to God and to your neighbour.  Of the latter I find proof in your kindness to myself; of the former, in your zeal for knowledge.  It is well known to every disciple of Christ that in these two all is contained.

2.  You ask for the writings of Dionysius; they did indeed reach me, and a great many they were; but I have not the books with me, and so have not sent them.  My opinion is, however, as follows.  I do not admire everything that is written; indeed of some things I totally disapprove.  For it may be, that of the impiety of which we are now hearing so much, I mean the Anomœan, it is he, as far as I know, who first gave men the seeds.  I do not trace his so doing to any mental depravity, but only to his earnest desire to resist Sabellius.  I often compare him to a woodman trying to straighten some ill-grown sapling, pulling so immoderately in the opposite direction as to exceed the mean, and so dragging the plant awry on the other side.  This is very much what we find to be the case with Dionysius.  While vehemently opposing the impiety of the Libyan, he is carried away unawares by his zeal into the opposite error.  It would have been quite sufficient for him to have pointed out that the Father and the Son are not identical in substance, and thus to score against the blasphemer.  But, in order to win an unmistakable and superabundant victory, he is not satisfied with laying down a difference of hypostases, but must needs assert also difference of substance, diminution of power, and variableness of glory.  So he exchanges one mischief for another, and diverges from the right line of doctrine.  In his writings he exhibits a miscellaneous inconsistency, and is at one time to be found disloyal to the homoousion, because of his opponent who made a bad use of it to the destruction of the hypostases, and at another admitting it in his Apology to his namesake.  Besides this he uttered very unbecoming words about the Spirit, separating Him from the Godhead, the object of worship, and assigning Him an inferior rank with created and subordinate nature.  Such is the man’s character.

3.  If I must give my own view, it is this.  The phrase “like in essence,” if it be read with the addition “without any difference,” I accept as conveying the same sense as the homoousion, in accordance with the sound meaning of the homoousion.  Being of this mind the Fathers at Nicæa spoke of the Only-begotten as “Light of Light,” “Very God of very God,” and so on, and then consistently added the homoousion.  It is impossible for any one to entertain the idea of variableness of light in relation to light, of truth in relation to truth, nor of the essence of the Only begotten in relation to that of the Father.  If, then, the phrase be accepted in this sense, I have no objection to it.  But if any one cuts off the qualification “without any difference” from the word “like,” as was done at Constantinople, then I regard the phrase with suspicion, as derogatory to the dignity of the Only-begotten.  We are frequently accustomed to entertain the idea of “likeness” in the case of indistinct resemblances, coming anything but close to the originals.  I am myself for the homoousion, as being less open to improper interpretation.  But why, my dear sir, should you not pay me a visit, that we may talk of these high topics face to face, instead of committing them to lifeless letters,—especially when I have determined not to publish my views?  And pray do not adopt, to me, the words of Diogenes to Alexander, that “it is as far from you to me as from me to you.”  I am almost obliged by ill-health to remain like the plants, in one place; moreover I hold “the living unknown” to be one of the chief goods.  You, I am told, are in good health; you have made yourself a citizen of the world, and you might consider in coming to see me that you are coming home.  It is quite right for you, a man of action, to have crowds and towns in which to show your good deeds.  For me, quiet is the best aid for the contemplation and mental exercise whereby I cling to God.  This quiet I cultivate in abundance in my retreat, with the aid of its giver, God.  Yet if you cannot but court the great, and despise me who lie low upon the ground, then write, and in this way make my life a happier one.

To a widow

Letter X.

To a widow.

The art of snaring pigeons is as follows.  When the men who devote themselves to this craft have caught one, they tame it, and make it feed with them.  Then they smear its wings with sweet oil, and let it go and join the rest outside.  Then the scent of that sweet oil makes the free flock the possession of the owner of the tame bird, for all the rest are attracted by the fragrance, and settle in the house.  But why do I begin my letter thus?  Because I have taken your son Dionysius, once Diomedes, and anointed the wings of his soul with the sweet all of God, and sent him to you that you may take flight with him, and make for the nest which he has built under my roof.  If I live to see this, and you, my honoured friend, translated to our lofty life, I shall require many persons worthy of God to pay Him all the honour that is His due.

Without address. To some friends

Letter XI.

Without address.  To some friends.

After by God’s grace I had passed the sacred day with our sons, and had kept a really perfect feast to the Lord because of their exceeding love to God, I sent them in good health to your excellency, with a prayer to our loving God to give them an angel of peace to help and accompany them, and to grant them to find you in good health and assured tranquillity, to the end that wherever your lot may be cast, I to the end of my days, whenever I hear news of you, may be gladdened to think of you as serving and giving thanks to the Lord.  If God should grant you to be quickly freed from these cares I beg you to let nothing stand in the way of your coming to stay with me.  I think you will find none to love you so well, or to make more of your friendship.  So long, then, as the Holy One ordains this separation, be sure that you never lose an opportunity of comforting me by a letter.

To Olympius

Letter XII.

To Olympius.

Before you did write me a few words:  now not even a few.  Your brevity will soon become silence.  Return to your old ways, and do not let me have to scold you for your laconic behaviour.  But I shall be glad even of a little letter in token of your great love.  Only write to me.

To Olympius

Letter XIII.

To Olympius.

As all the fruits of the season come to us in their proper time, flowers in spring, corn in summer, and apples in autumn, so the fruit for winter is talk.

To Gregory his friend

Letter XIV.

To Gregory his friend.

My brother Gregory writes me word that he has long been wishing to be with me, and adds that you are of the same mind; however, I could not wait, partly as being hard of belief, considering I have been so often disappointed, and partly because I find myself pulled all ways by business.  I must at once make for Pontus, where, perhaps, God willing, I may make an end of wandering.  After renouncing, with trouble, the idle hopes which I once had, [about you] or rather the dreams, (for it is well said that hopes are waking dreams), I departed into Pontus in quest of a place to live in.  There God has opened on me a spot exactly answering to my taste, so that I actually see before my eyes what I have often pictured to my mind in idle fancy.  There is a lofty mountain covered with thick woods, watered towards the north with cool and transparent streams.  A plain lies beneath, enriched by the waters which are ever draining off from it; and skirted by a spontaneous profusion of trees almost thick enough to be a fence; so as even to surpass Calypso’s Island, which Homer seems to have considered the most beautiful spot on the earth.  Indeed it is like an island, enclosed as it is on all sides; for deep hollows cut off two sides of it; the river, which has lately fallen down a precipice, runs all along the front and is impassable as a wall; while the mountain extending itself behind, and meeting the hollows in a crescent, stops up the path at its roots.  There is but one pass, and I am master of it.  Behind my abode there is another gorge, rising into a ledge up above, so as to command the extent of the plains and the stream which bounds it, which is not less beautiful, to my taste, than the Strymon as seen from Amphipolis.  For while the latter flows leisurely, and swells into a lake almost, and is too still to be a river, the former is the most rapid stream I know, and somewhat turbid, too, from the rocks just above; from which, shooting down, and eddying in a deep pool, it forms a most pleasant scene for myself or any one else; and is an inexhaustible resource to the country people, in the countless fish which its depths contain.  What need to tell of the exhalations from the earth, or the breezes from the river?  Another might admire the multitude of flowers, and singing birds; but leisure I have none for such thoughts.  However, the chief praise of the place is, that being happily disposed for produce of every kind, it nurtures what to me is the sweetest produce of all, quietness; indeed, it is not only rid of the bustle of the city, but is even unfrequented by travellers, except a chance hunter.  It abounds indeed in game, as well as other things, but not, I am glad to say, in bears or wolves, such as you have, but in deer, and wild goats, and hares, and the like.  Does it not strike you what a foolish mistake I was near making when I was eager to change this spot for your Tiberina, the very pit of the whole earth?

Pardon me, then, if I am now set upon it; for not Alcmæon himself, I suppose, could endure to wander further when he had found the Echinades.

To Arcadius, Imperial Treasurer

Letter XV.

To Arcadius, Imperial Treasurer.

The townsmen of our metropolis have conferred on me a greater favour than they have received, in giving me an opportunity of writing to your excellency.  The kindness, to win which they have received this letter from me, was assured them even before I wrote, on account of your wonted and inborn courtesy to all.  But I have considered it a very great advantage to have the opportunity of addressing your excellency, praying to the holy God that I may continue to rejoice, and share in the pleasure of the recipients of your bounty, while you please Him more and more, and while the splendour of your high place continues to increase.  I pray that in due time I may with joy once more welcome those who are delivering this my letter into your hands, and send them forth praising, as do many, your considerate treatment of them, and I trust that they will have found my recommendation of them not without use in approaching your exalted excellency.

Against Eunomius the heretic

Letter XVI.

Against Eunomius the heretic.

He who maintains that it is possible to arrive at the discovery of things actually existing, has no doubt by some orderly method advanced his intelligence by means of the knowledge of actually existing things.  It is after first training himself by the apprehension of small and easily comprehensible objects, that he brings his apprehensive faculty to bear on what is beyond all intelligence.  He makes his boast that he has really arrived at the comprehension of actual existences; let him then explain to us the nature of the least of visible beings; let him tell us all about the ant.  Does its life depend on breath and breathing?  Has it a skeleton?  Is its body connected by sinews and ligaments?  Are its sinews surrounded with muscles and glands?  Does its marrow go with dorsal vertebræ from brow to tail?  Does it give impulse to its moving members by the enveloping nervous membrane?  Has it a liver, with a gall bladder near the liver?  Has it kidneys, heart, arteries, veins, membranes, cartilages?  Is it hairy or hairless?  Has it an uncloven hoof, or are its feet divided?  How long does it live?  What is its mode of reproduction?  What is its period of gestation?  How is it that ants neither all walk nor all fly, but some belong to creeping things, and some travel through the air?  The man who glories in his knowledge of the really-existing ought to tell us in the meanwhile about the nature of the ant.  Next let him give us a similar physiological account of the power that transcends all human intelligence.  But if your knowledge has not yet been able to apprehend the nature of the insignificant ant, how can you boast yourself able to form a conception of the power of the incomprehensible God?

To Origenes

Letter XVII.

To Origenes.

It is delightful to listen to you, and delightful to read you; and I think you give me the greater pleasure by your writings.  All thanks to our good God Who has not suffered the truth to suffer in consequence of its betrayal by the chief powers in the State, but by your means has made the defence of the doctrine of true religion full and satisfactory.  Like hemlock, monkshood, and other poisonous herbs, after they have bloomed for a little while, they will quickly wither away.  But the reward which the Lord will give you in requital of all that you have said in defence of His name blooms afresh for ever.  Wherefore I pray God grant you all happiness in your home, and make His blessing descend to your sons.  I was delighted to see and embrace those noble boys, express images of your excellent goodness, and my prayers for them ask all that their father can ask.

To Macarius and John

Letter XVIII.

To Macarius and John.

The labours of the field come as no novelty to tillers of the land; sailors are not astonished if they meet a storm at sea; sweats in the summer heat are the common experience of the hired hind; and to them that have chosen to live a holy life the afflictions of this present world cannot come unforeseen.  Each and all of these have the known and proper labour of their callings, not chosen for its own sake, but for the sake of the enjoyment of the good things to which they look forward.  What in each of these cases acts as a consolation in trouble is that which really forms the bond and link of all human life,—hope.  Now of them that labour for the fruits of the earth, or for earthly things, some enjoy only in imagination what they have looked for, and are altogether disappointed; and even in the case of others, where the issue has answered expectation, another hope is soon needed, so quickly has the first fled and faded out of sight.  Only of them that labour for holiness and truth are the hopes destroyed by no deception; no issue can destroy their labours, for the kingdom of the heavens that awaits them is firm and sure.  So long then as the word of truth is on our side, never be in any wise distressed at the calumny of a lie; let no imperial threats scare you; do not be grieved at the laughter and mockery of your intimates, nor at the condemnation of those who pretend to care for you, and who put forward, as their most attractive bait to deceive, a pretence of giving good advice.  Against them all let sound reason do battle, invoking the championship and succour of our Lord Jesus Christ, the teacher of true religion, for Whom to suffer is sweet, and “to die is gain.”

To Gregory my friend

Letter XIX.

To Gregory my friend.

I received a letter from you the day before yesterday.  It is shewn to be yours not so much by the handwriting as by the peculiar style.  Much meaning is expressed in few words.  I did not reply on the spot, because I was away from home, and the letter-carrier, after he had delivered the packet to one of my friends, went away.  Now, however, I am able to address you through Peter, and at the same time both to return your greeting, and give you an opportunity for another letter.  There is certainly no trouble in writing a laconic dispatch like those which reach me from you.

To Leontius the Sophist

Letter XX.

To Leontius the Sophist.

I too do not write often to you, but not more seldom than you do to me, though many have travelled hitherward from your part of the world.  If you had sent a letter by every one of them, one after the other, there would have been nothing to prevent my seeming to be actually in your company, and enjoying it as though we had been together, so uninterrupted has been the stream of arrivals.  But why do you not write?  It is no trouble to a Sophist to write.  Nay, if your hand is tired, you need not even write; another will do that for you.  Only your tongue is needed.  And though it does not speak to me, it may assuredly speak to one of your companions.  If nobody is with you, it will talk by itself.  Certainly the tongue of a Sophist and of an Athenian is as little likely to be quiet as the nightingales when the spring stirs them to song.  In my own case, the mass of business in which I am now engaged may perhaps afford some excuse for my lack of letters.  And peradventure the fact of my style having been spoilt by constant familiarity with common speech may make me somewhat hesitate to address Sophists like you, who are certain to be annoyed and unmerciful, unless you hear something worthy of your wisdom.  You, on the other hand, ought assuredly to use every opportunity of making your voice heard abroad, for you are the best speaker of all the Hellenes that I know; and I think I know the most renowned among you; so that there really is no excuse for your silence.  But enough on this point.

I have sent you my writings against Eunomius.  Whether they are to be called child’s play, or something a little more serious, I leave you to judge.  So far as concerns yourself, I do not think you stand any longer in need of them; but I hope they will be no unworthy weapon against any perverse men with whom you may fall in.  I do not say this so much because I have confidence in the force of my treatise, as because I know well that you are a man likely to make a little go a long way.  If anything strikes you as weaker than it ought to be, pray have no hesitation in showing me the error.  The chief difference between a friend and a flatterer is this; the flatterer speaks to please, the friend will not leave out even what is disagreeable.

To Leontius the Sophist

Letter XXI.

To Leontius the Sophist.

The excellent Julianus seems to get some good for his private affairs out of the general condition of things.  Everything nowadays is full of taxes demanded and called in, and he too is vehemently dunned and indicted.  Only it is a question not of arrears of rates and taxes, but of letters.  But how he comes to be a defaulter I do not know.  He has always paid a letter, and received a letter—as he has this.  But possibly you have a preference for the famous “four-times-as-much.”  For even the Pythagoreans were not so fond of their Tetractys, as these modern tax-collectors of their “four-times-as-much.”  Yet perhaps the fairer thing would have been just the opposite, that a Sophist like you, so very well furnished with words, should be bound in pledge to me for “four-times-as-much.”  But do not suppose for a moment that I am writing all this out of ill-humour.  I am only too pleased to get even a scolding from you.  The good and beautiful do everything, it is said, with the addition of goodness and beauty.  Even grief and anger in them are becoming.  At all events any one would rather see his friend angry with him than any one else flattering him.  Do not then cease preferring charges like the last!  The very charge will mean a letter; and nothing can be more precious or delightful to me.

Without address. On the Perfection of the Life of Solitaries

Letter XXII.

 Without address.  On the Perfection of the Life of Solitaries.

1.  Many things are set forth by inspired Scripture as binding upon all who are anxious to please God.  But, for the present, I have only deemed it necessary to speak by way of brief reminder concerning the questions which have recently been stirred among you, so far as I have learnt from the study of inspired Scripture itself.  I shall thus leave behind me detailed evidence, easy of apprehension, for the information of industrious students, who in their turn will be able to inform others.  The Christian ought to be so minded as becomes his heavenly calling, and his life and conversation ought to be worthy of the Gospel of Christ.  The Christian ought not to be of doubtful mind, nor by anything drawn away from the recollection of God and of His purposes and judgments.  The Christian ought in all things to become superior to the righteousness existing under the law, and neither swear nor lie.  He ought not to speak evil; to do violence; to fight; to avenge himself; to return evil for evil; to be angry.  The Christian ought to be patient, whatever he have to suffer, and to convict the wrong-doer in season, not with the desire of his own vindication, but of his brother’s reformation, according to the commandment of the Lord.  The Christian ought not to say anything behind his brother’s back with the object of calumniating him, for this is slander, even if what is said is true.  He ought to turn away from the brother who speaks evil against him; he ought not to indulge in jesting; he ought not to laugh nor even to suffer laugh makers.  He must not talk idly, saying things which are of no service to the hearers nor to such usage as is necessary and permitted us by God; so that workers may do their best as far as possible to work in silence; and that good words be suggested to them by those who are entrusted with the duty of carefully dispensing the word to the building up of the faith, lest God’s Holy Spirit be grieved.  Any one who comes in ought not to be able, of his own free will, to accost or speak to any of the brothers, before those to whom the responsibility of general discipline is committed have approved of it as pleasing to God, with a view to the common good.  The Christian ought not to be enslaved by wine; nor to be eager for flesh meat, and as a general rule ought not to be a lover of pleasure in eating or drinking, “for every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things.”  The Christian ought to regard all the things that are given him for his use, not as his to hold as his own or to lay up; and, giving careful heed to all things as the Lord’s, not to overlook any of the things that are being thrown aside and disregarded, should this be the case.  No Christian ought to think of himself as his own master, but each should rather so think and act as though given by God to be slave to his like minded brethren; but “every man in his own order.”

2.  The Christian ought never to murmur either in scarcity of necessities, or in toil or labour, for the responsibility in these matters lies with such as have authority in them.  There never ought to be any clamour, or any behaviour or agitation by which anger is expressed, or diversion of mind from the full assurance of the presence of God.

The voice should be modulated; no one ought to answer another, or do anything, roughly or contemptuously, but in all things moderation and respect should be shewn to every one.  No wily glances of the eye are to be allowed, nor any behaviour or gestures which grieve a brother and shew contempt.  Any display in cloak or shoes is to be avoided; it is idle ostentation.  Cheap things ought to be used for bodily necessity; and nothing ought to be spent beyond what is necessary, or for mere extravagance; this is a misuse of our property.  The Christian ought not to seek for honour, or claim precedence.  Every one ought to put all others before himself.  The Christian ought not to be unruly.  He who is able to work ought not to eat the bread of idleness, but even he who is busied in deeds well done for the glory of Christ ought to force himself to the active discharge of such work as he can do.  Every Christian, with the approval of his superiors, ought so to do everything with reason and assurance, even down to actual eating and drinking, as done to the glory of God.  The Christian ought not to change over from one work to another without the approval of those who are appointed for the arrangement of such matters; unless some unavoidable necessity suddenly summon any one to the relief of the helpless.  Every one ought to remain in his appointed post, not to go beyond his own bounds and intrude into what is not commanded him, unless the responsible authorities judge any one to be in need of aid.  No one ought to be found going from one workshop to another.  Nothing ought to be done in rivalry or strife with any one.

3.  The Christian ought not to grudge another’s reputation, nor rejoice over any man’s faults; he ought in Christ’s love to grieve and be afflicted at his brother’s faults, and rejoice over his brother’s good deeds.  He ought not to be indifferent or silent before sinners.  He who shows another to be wrong ought to do so with all tenderness, in the fear of God, and with the object of converting the sinner.  He who is proved wrong or rebuked ought to take it willingly, recognizing his own gain in being set right.  When any one is being accused, it is not right for another, before him or any one else, to contradict the accuser; but if at any time the charge seems groundless to any one, he ought privately to enter into discussion with the accuser, and either produce, or acquire, conviction.  Every one ought, as far as he is able, to conciliate one who has ground of complaint against him.  No one ought to cherish a grudge against the sinner who repents, but heartily to forgive him.  He who says that he has repented of a sin ought not only to be pricked with compunction for his sin, but also to bring forth fruits worthy of repentance.  He who has been corrected in first faults, and received pardon, if he sins again prepares for himself a judgment of wrath worse than the former.  He, who after the first and second admonition abides in his fault, ought to be brought before the person in authority, if haply after being rebuked by more he may be ashamed.  If even thus he fail to be set right he is to be cut off from the rest as one that maketh to offend, and regarded as a heathen and a publican, for the security of them that are obedient, according to the saying, When the impious fall the righteous tremble.  He should be grieved over as a limb cut from the body.  The sun ought not to go down upon a brother’s wrath, lest haply night come between brother and brother, and make the charge stand in the day of judgment.  A Christian ought not to wait for an opportunity for his own amendment, because there is no certainty about the morrow; for many after many devices have not reached the morrow.  He ought not to be beguiled by over eating, whence come dreams in the night.  He ought not to be distracted by immoderate toil, nor overstep the bounds of sufficiency, as the apostle says, “Having food and raiment let us be therewith content;” unnecessary abundance gives appearance of covetousness, and covetousness is condemned as idolatry.  A Christian ought not to be a lover of money, nor lay up treasure for unprofitable ends.  He who comes to God ought to embrace poverty in all things, and to be riveted in the fear of God, according to the words, “Rivet my flesh in thy fear, for I am afraid of thy judgments.”  The Lord grant that you may receive what I have said with full conviction and shew forth fruits worthy of the Spirit to the glory of God, by God’s good pleasure, and the cooperation of our Lord Jesus Christ.

To a Solitary

Letter XXIII.

To a Solitary.

A certain man, as he says, on condemning the vanity of this life, and perceiving that its joys are ended here, since they only provide material for eternal fire and then quickly pass away, has come to me with the desire of separating from this wicked and miserable life, of abandoning the pleasures of the flesh, and of treading for the future a road which leads to the mansions of the Lord.  Now if he is sincerely firm in his truly blessed purpose, and has in his soul the glorious and laudable passion, loving the Lord his God with all his heart, with all his strength, and with all his mind, it is necessary for your reverence to show him the difficulties and distresses of the strait and narrow way, and establish him in the hope of the good things which are as yet unseen, but are laid up in promise for all that are worthy of the Lord.  I therefore write to entreat your incomparable perfection in Christ, if it be possible to mould his character, and, without me, to bring about his renunciation according to what is pleasing to God, and to see that he receive elementary instruction in accordance with what has been decided by the Holy Fathers, and put forth by them in writing.  See too that he have put before him all things that are essential to ascetic discipline, and that so he may be introduced to the life, after having accepted, of his own accord, the labours undergone for religion’s sake, subjected himself to the Lord’s easy yoke, adopted a conversation in imitation of Him Who for our sakes became poor and took flesh, and may run without fail to the prize of his high calling, and receive the approbation of the Lord.  He is wishful to receive here the crown of God’s loves, but I have put him off, because I wish, in conjunction with your reverence, to anoint him for such struggles, and to appoint over him one of your number whom he may select to be his trainer, training him nobly, and making him by his constant and blessed care a tried wrestler, wounding and overthrowing the prince of the darkness of this world, and the spiritual powers of iniquity, with whom, as the blessed Apostle says, is “our wrestling.”  What I wish to do in conjunction with you, let your love in Christ do without me.

To Athanasius, father of Athanasius bishop of Ancyra

Letter XXIV.

To Athanasius, father of Athanasius bishop of Ancyra.

That one of the things hardest to achieve, if indeed it be not impossible, is to rise superior to calumny, I am myself fully persuaded, and so too, I presume, is your excellency.  Yet not to give a handle by one’s own conduct, either to inquisitive critics of society, or to mischief makers who lie in wait to catch us tripping, is not only possible, but is the special characteristic of all who order their lives wisely and according to the rule of true religion.  And do not think me so simple and credulous as to accept depreciatory remarks from any one without due investigation.  I bear in mind the admonition of the Spirit, “Thou shalt not receive a false report.”  But you, learned men, yourselves say that “The seen is significant of the unseen.”  I therefore beg;—(and pray do not take it ill if I seem to be speaking as though I were giving a lesson; for “God has chosen the weak” and “despised things of the world,” and often by their means brings about the salvation of such as are being saved); what I say and urge is this; that by word and deed we act with scrupulous attention to propriety, and, in accordance with the apostolic precept, “give no offence in anything.”  The life of one who has toiled hard in the acquisition of knowledge, who has governed cities and states, and who is jealous of the high character of his forefathers, ought to be an example of high character itself.  You ought not now to be exhibiting your disposition towards your children in word only, as you have long exhibited its ever since you became a father; you ought not only to shew that natural affection which is shewn by brutes, as you yourself have said, and as experience shews.  You ought to make your love go further, and be a love all the more personal and voluntary in that you see your children worthy of a father’s prayers.  On this point I do not need to be convinced.  The evidence of facts is enough.  One thing, however, I will say for truth’s sake, that it is not our brother Timotheus, the Chorepiscopus, who has brought me word of what is noised abroad.  For neither by word of mouth nor by letter has he ever conveyed anything in the shape of slander, be it small or great.  That I have heard something I do not deny, but it is not Timotheus who accuses you.  Yet while I hear whatever I do, at least I will follow the example of Alexander, and will keep one ear clear for the accused.

To Athanasius, bishop of Ancyra

Letter XXV.

To Athanasius, bishop of Ancyra.

1.  I have received intelligence from those who come to me from Ancyra, and they are many and more than I can count, but they all agree in what they say, that you, a man very dear to me, (how can I speak so as to give no offence?) do not mention me in very pleasant terms, nor yet in such as your character would lead me to expect.  I, however, learned long ago the weakness of human nature, and its readiness to turn from one extreme to another; and so, be well assured, nothing connected with it can astonish me, nor does any change come quite unexpected.  Therefore that my lot should have changed for the worse, and that reproaches and insults should have arisen in the place of former respect, I do not make much ado.  But one thing does really strike me as astonishing and monstrous, and that is that it should be you who have this mind about me, and go so far as to feel anger and indignation against me, and, if the report of your hearers is to be believed, have already proceeded to such extremities as to utter threats.  At these threats, I will not deny, I really have laughed.  Truly I should have been but a boy to be frightened at such bugbears.  But it does seem to me alarming and distressing that you, who, as I have trusted, are preserved for the comfort of the churches, a buttress of the truth where many fall away, and a seed of the ancient and true love, should so far fall in with the present course of events as to be more influenced by the calumny of the first man you come across than by your long knowledge of me, and, without any proof, should be seduced into suspecting absurdities.

2.  But, as I said, for the present I postpone the case.  Would it have been too hard a task, my dear sir, to discuss in a short letter, as between friend and friend, points which you wish to raise; or, if you objected to entrusting such things to writing, to get me to come to you?  But if you could not help speaking out, and your uncontrollable anger allowed no time for delay, at least you might have employed one of those about you who are naturally adapted for dealing with confidential matters, as a means of communication with me.  But now, of all those who for one reason or another approach you, into whose ears has it not been dinned that I am a writer and composer of certain “pests”?  For this is the word which those, who quote you word for word, say that you have used.  The more I bring my mind to bear upon the matter the more hopeless is my puzzle.  This idea has struck me.  Can any heretic have grieved your orthodoxy, and driven you to the utterance of that word by malevolently putting my name to his own writings?  For you, a man who has sustained great and famous contests on behalf of the truth, could never have endured to inflict such an outrage on what I am well known to have written against those who dare to say that God the Son is in essence unlike God the Father, or who blasphemously describe the Holy Ghost as created and made.  You might relieve me from my difficulty yourself, if you would tell me plainly what it is that has stirred you to be thus offended with me.