Contents Letters of St. Basil
Letters of St. Basil · St. Basil the Great

Letters 270–291

Part 23 of 25 · 25 min read

To the wife of Arinthæus, the General. Consolatory

1.  It had been only proper, and due to your affection, that I should have been on the spot, and have taken part in the present occurrences.  Thus I might have at once assuaged my own sorrow, and given some consolation to your excellency.  But my body will no longer endure long journeys, and so I am driven to approach you by letter, that I seem not to count what has happened as altogether of no interest to me.  Who has not mourned for that man?  Who is so stony of heart as not to have shed a warm tear over him?  I especially have been filled with mourning at the thought of all the marks of respect which I have received from him, and of the general protection which he has extended to the Churches of God.  Nevertheless, I have bethought me that he was human, and had done the work he had to do in this life, and now in the appointed time has been taken back again by God Who ordains our lots.  All this, I beseech you, in your wisdom, to take to heart, and to meet the event with meekness, and, so far as is possible, to endure your loss with moderation.  Time may be able to soothe your heart, and allow the approach of reason.  At the same time your great love for your husband, and your goodness to all, lead me to fear that, from the very simplicity of your character, the wound of your grief may pierce you deeply, and that you may give yourself up entirely to your feelings.  The teaching of Scripture is always useful, and specially at times like this.  Remember, then, the sentence passed by our Creator.  By it all we who are dust shall return to dust.  No one is so great as to be superior to dissolution.

2.  Your admirable husband was a good and great man, and his bodily strength rivalled the virtues of his soul.  He was unsurpassed, I must own, in both respects.  But he was human, and he is dead; like Adam, like Abel, like Noah, like Abraham, like Moses, or any one else of like nature that you can name.  Let us not then complain because he has been taken from us.  Let us rather thank Him, who joined us to him, that we dwelt with him from the beginning.  To lose a husband is a lot which you share with other women; but to have been united to such a husband is a boast which I do not think any other woman can make.  In truth our Creator fashioned that man for us as a model of what human nature ought to be.  All eyes were attracted towards him, and every tongue told of his deeds.  Painters and sculptors fell short of his excellence, and historians, when they tell the story of his achievements in war, seem to fall into the region of the mythical and the incredible.  Thus it has come about that most men have not even been able to give credit to the report conveying the sad tidings, or to accept the truth of the news that Arinthæus is dead.  Nevertheless Arinthæus has suffered what will happen to heaven and to sun and to earth.  He has died a bright death; not bowed down by old age; without losing one whit of his honour; great in this life; great in the life to come; deprived of nothing of his present splendour in view of the glory hoped for, because he washed away all the stain of his soul, in the very moment of his departure hence, in the laver of regeneration.  That you should have arranged and joined in this rite is cause of supreme consolation.  Turn now your thoughts from the present to the future, that you may be worthy through good works to obtain a place of rest like his.  Spare an aged mother; spare a tender daughter, to whom you are now the sole comfort.  Be an example of fortitude to other women, and so regulate your grief that you may neither eject it from your heart, nor be overwhelmed by your distress.  Ever keep your eyes fixed on the great reward of patience, promised, as the requital of the deeds of this life, by our Lord Jesus Christ.

Without Address. Concerning Raptus

Letter CCLXX.

Without Address.  Concerning Raptus.

I am distressed to find that you are by no means indignant at the sins forbidden, and that you seem incapable of understanding, how this raptus, which has been committed, is an act of unlawfulness and tyranny against society and human nature, and an outrage on free men.  I am sure that if you had all been of one mind in this matter, there would have been nothing to prevent this bad custom from being long ago driven out of your country.  Do thou at the present time shew the zeal of a Christian man, and be moved as the wrong deserves.  Wherever you find the girl, insist on taking her away, and restore her to her parents, shut out the man from the prayers, and make him excommunicate.  His accomplices, according to the canon which I have already put forth, cut off, with all their household, from the prayers.  The village which received the girl after the abduction, and kept her, or even fought against her restitution, shut out with all its inhabitants from the prayers; to the end that all may know that we regard the ravisher as a common foe, like a snake or any other wild beast, and so hunt him out, and help those whom he has wronged.

To Eusebius, my comrade, to recommend Cyriacus the presbyter

Letter CCLXXI.

To Eusebius, my comrade, to recommend Cyriacus the presbyter.

At once and in haste, after your departure, I came to the town.  Why need I tell a man not needing to be told, because he knows by experience, how distressed I was not to find you?  How delightful it would have been to me to see once more the excellent Eusebius, to embrace him, to travel once again in memory to our young days, and to be reminded of old times when for both of us there was one home, one hearth, the same schoolmaster, the same leisure, the same work, the same treats, the same hardships, and everything shared in common!  What do you think I would not have given to recall all this by actually meeting you, to rid me of the heavy weight of my old age, and to seem to be turned from an old man into a lad again?  But I have lost this pleasure.  At least of the privilege of meeting your excellency in correspondence, and of consoling myself by the best means at my disposal, I am not deprived.  I am so fortunate as to meet the very reverend presbyter Cyriacus.  I am ashamed to recommend him to you, and to make him, through me, your own, lest I seem to be performing a superfluous task in offering to you what you already possess and value as your own.  But it is my duty to witness to the truth, and to give the best boons I have to those who are spiritually united to me.  I think that the man’s blamelessness in his sacred position is well known to you; but I confirm it, for I do not know that any charge is brought against him by those who do not fear the Lord and are laying their hands upon all.  Even if they had done anything of the kind, the man would not have been unworthy, for the enemies of the Lord rather vindicate the orders of those whom they attack than deprive them of any of the grace given them by the Spirit.  However, as I said, nothing has even been thought of against the man.  Be so good then as to look upon him as a blameless presbyter, in union with me, and worthy of all reverence.  Thus will you benefit yourself and gratify me.

To Sophronius the magister officiorum

Letter CCLXXII.

To Sophronius the magister officiorum.

1.  It has been reported to me by Actiacus the deacon, that certain men have moved you to anger against me, by falsely stating me to be ill-disposed towards your excellency.  I cannot be astonished at a man in your position being followed by certain sycophants.  High position seems to be in some way naturally attended by miserable hangers-on of this kind.  Destitute as they are of any good quality of their own whereby they may be known, they endeavour to recommend themselves by means of other people’s ills.  Peradventure, just as mildew is a blight which grows in corn, so flattery stealing upon friendship is a blight of friendship.  So, as I said, I am by no means astonished that these men should buzz about your bright and distinguished hearth, as drones do about the hives.  But what has moved my wonderment, and has seemed altogether astounding, is that a man like yourself, specially distinguished by the seriousness of your character, should have been induced to give both your ears to these people and to accept their calumny against me.  From my youth up to this my old age I have felt affection for many men, but I am not aware that I have ever felt greater affection for any one than for your excellency.  Even had not my reason induced me to regard a man of such a character, our intimacy from boyhood would have sufficed to attach me to your soul.  You know yourself how much custom has to do with friendship.  Pardon my deficiency, if I can show nothing worthy of this preference.  You will not ask some deed from me in proof of my good will; you will be satisfied with a temper of mind which assuredly prays for you that you may have all that is best.  May your fortunes never fall so low, as that you should need the aid of any one so insignificant as myself!

2.  How then was I likely to say anything against you, or to take any action in the matter of Memnonius?  These points were reported to me by the deacon.  How could I put the wealth of Hymetius before the friendship of one so prodigal of his substance as you are?  There is no truth in any of these things.  I have neither said nor done anything against you.  Possibly some ground may have been given for some of the lies that are being told, by my remarking to some of those who are causing disturbance, “If the man has determined to accomplish what he has in mind, then, whether you make disturbance or not, what he means to be done will certainly be done.  You will speak, or hold your tongues; it will make no difference.  If he changes his mind, beware how you defame my friend’s honourable name.  Do not, under the pretence of zeal in your patron’s cause, attempt to make some personal profit out of your attempts to threaten and alarm.”  As to that person’s making his will, I have never said one word, great or small, directly or indirectly, about the matter.

3.  You must not refuse to believe what I say, unless you regard me as quite a desperate character, who thinks nothing of the great sin of lying.  Put away all suspicion of me in relation to the business, and for the future reckon my affection for you as beyond the reach of all calumny.  Imitate Alexander, who received a letter, saying that his physician was plotting his death, at the very moment when he was just about to drink his medicine, and was so far from believing the slanderer that he at one and the same time read the letter and drank the draught.  I refuse to admit that I am in any way inferior to the men who have been famous for their friendship, for I have never been detected in any breach of mine; and, besides this, I have received from my God the commandment of love, and owe you love not only as part of mankind in general, but because I recognise you individually as a benefactor both of my country and of myself.

Without address. Concerning Hera

Letter CCLXXIII.

Without address.  Concerning Hera.

I am sure that your excellency loves me well enough to regard all that concerns me as concerning you.  Therefore I commend to your great kindness and high consideration my very reverend brother Hera, whom I do not merely call brother by any conventional phrase, but because of his boundless affection.  I beseech you to regard him as though he were nearly connected with yourself, and, so far as you can, to give him your protection in the matters in which he requires your generous and thoughtful aid.  I shall then have this one more kindness to reckon in addition to the many which I have already received at your hands.

To Himerius, the master

Letter CCLXXIV.

To Himerius, the master.

That my friendship and affection for the very reverend brother Hera began when I was quite a boy, and has, by God’s grace, continued up to my old age, no one knows better than yourself.  For the Lord granted me the affection of your excellency at about the same time that He allowed me to become acquainted with Hera.  He now needs your patronage, and I therefore beseech and supplicate you to do a favour for the sake of our old affection, and to heed the necessity under which we now lie.  I beg you to make his cause your own, that he may need no other protection, but may return to me, successful in all that he is praying for.  Then to the many kindnesses which I have received at your hands I shall be able to add yet this one more.  I could not claim any favour more important to myself, or one more nearly touching my own interests.

Without address. Concerning Hera

Letter CCLXXV.

Without address.  Concerning Hera.

You have anticipated my entreaties in your affection for my very reverend brother Hera, and you have been better to him than I could have prayed for you to be in the abundant honour which you have shewn him, and the protection which you have extended to him on every occasion.  But I cannot allow his affairs to go unnoticed by a word, and I must beseech your excellency that for my sake you will add something to the interest you have shewn in him, and will send him back to his own country victorious over the revilings of his enemies.  Now many are trying to insult the peacefulness of his life, and he is not beyond the reach of envy’s shafts.  Against his foes we shall find one sure means of safety, if you will consent to extend your protection over him.

To the great Harmatius

Letter CCLXXVI.

To the great Harmatius.

The common law of human nature makes elders fathers to youngsters, and the special peculiar law of us Christians puts us old men in the place of parents to the younger.  Do not, then, think that I am impertinent or shew myself indefensibly meddlesome, if I plead with you on behalf of your son.  In other respects I think it only right that you should exact obedience from him; for, so far as his body is concerned, he is subject to you, both by the law of nature, and by the civil law under which we live.  His soul, however, is derived from a diviner source, and may properly be held to be subject to another authority.  The debts which it owes to God have a higher claim than any others.  Since, then, he has preferred the God of us Christians, the true God, to your many gods which are worshipped by the help of material symbols, be not angry with him.  Rather admire his noble firmness of soul, in sacrificing the fear and respect due to his father to close conjunction with God, through true knowledge and a life of virtue.  Nature herself will move you, as well as your invariable gentleness and kindliness of disposition, not to allow yourself to feel angry with him even to a small extent.  And I am sure that you will not set my mediation at naught,—or rather, I should say, the mediation of your townsmen of which I am the exponent.  They all love you so well, and pray so earnestly for all blessings for you, that they suppose that in you they have welcomed a Christian too.  So overjoyed have they been at the report which has suddenly reached the town.

To the learned Maximus

Letter CCLXXVII.

To the learned Maximus.

The excellent Theotecnus has given mean account of your highness, whereby he has inspired me with a longing for your acquaintance, so clearly do his words delineate the character of your mind.  He has enkindled in me so ardent an affection for you, that were it not that I am weighed down with age, that I am the victim of a congenital ailment, that I am bound hand and foot by the numberless cares of the Church, nothing would have hindered my coming to you.  For indeed it is no small gain that a member of a great house, a man of illustrious lineage, in adopting the life of the gospel, should bridle the propensities of youth by reflection, and subject to reason the affections of the flesh; should display a humility consistent with his Christian profession, bethinking himself, as is his duty, whence he is come and whither he is going.  For it is this consideration of our nature that reduces the swelling of the mind, and banishes all boastfulness and arrogance.  In a word it renders one a disciple of our Lord, Who said, “Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart.”  And in truth, very dear son, the only thing that deserves our exertions and praises is our everlasting welfare; and this is the honour that comes from God.

Human affairs are fainter than a shadow; more deceitful than a dream.  Youth fades more quickly than the flowers of spring; our beauty wastes with age or sickness.  Riches are uncertain; glory is fickle.  The pursuit of arts and sciences is bounded by the present life; the charm of eloquence, which all covet, reaches but the ear:  whereas the practice of virtue is a precious possession for its owner, a delightful spectacle for all who witness it.  Make this your study; so will you be worthy of the good things promised by the Lord.

But a recital of the means whereby to make the acquisition, and secure the enjoyment of these blessings, lies beyond the intention of this present letter.  Thus much however, after what I heard from my brother Theotecnus, it occurred to me to write to you.  I pray that he may always speak the truth, especially in his accounts of you; that the Lord may be the more glorified in you, abounding as you do in the most precious fruits of piety, although derived from a foreign root.

To Valerianus

Letter CCLXXVIII.

To Valerianus.

I desired, when in Orphanene, to see your excellency; I had also hoped that while you were living at Corsagæna, there would have been nothing to hinder your coming to me at a synod which I had expected to hold at Attagæna; since, however, I failed to hold it, my desire was to see you in the hill-country; for here again Evesus, being in that neighbourhood, held out hopes of our meeting.  But since I have been disappointed on both occasions, I determined to write and beg that you would deign to visit me; for I think it is but right and proper that the young man should come to the old.  Furthermore, at our meeting, I would make you a tender of my advice, touching your negotiations with certain at Cæsarea:  a right conclusion of the matter calls for my intervention.  If agreeable then, do not be backward in coming to me.

To Modestus the Prefect

Letter CCLXXIX.

To Modestus the Prefect.

Although so numerous are my letters, conveyed to your excellency by as many bearers, yet, having regard to the especial honour you have shewn me, I cannot think that their large number causes you any annoyance.

I do not hesitate therefore to entrust to this brother the accompanying letter:  I know that he will meet with all that he wishes, and that you will count me but as a benefactor in furnishing occasion for the gratification of your kind inclinations.  He craves your advocacy.  His cause he will explain in person, if you but deign to regard him with a favourable eye, and embolden him to speak freely in the presence of so august an authority.  Accept my assurance that any kindness shewn to him, I shall regard as personal to myself.  His special reason for leaving Tyana and coming to me was the high value he attached to the presentation of a letter written by myself in support of his application.  That he may not be disappointed of his hope; that I may continue in the enjoyment of your consideration; that your interest in all that is good may, in this present matter, find scope for its full exercise—are the grounds on which I crave a gracious reception for him, and a place amongst those nearest to you.

To Modestus the Prefect

Letter CCLXXX.

To Modestus the Prefect.

I feel my boldness in pressing my suit by letter upon a man in your position; still the honour that you have paid me in the past has banished all my scruples.  Accordingly I write with confidence.

My plea is for a relative of mine, a man worthy of respect for his integrity.  He is the bearer of this letter, and he stands to me in the place of a son.  Your favour is all that he requires for the fulfilment of his wishes.  Deign therefore to receive, at the hands of the aforesaid bearer, my letter in furtherance of his plea.  I pray you to give him an opportunity of explaining his affairs at an interview with those in a position to help him.  So by your direction shall he quickly obtain his desires; while I shall have occasion for boasting that by God’s favour I have found a champion who regards the entreaties of my friends as personal claims to his protection.

To Modestus the Prefect

Letter CCLXXXI.

To Modestus the Prefect.

I am mindful of the great honour I received in the encouragement you gave me, along with others, to address your excellency.  I avail myself of the privilege and the enjoyment of your gracious favour.

I congratulate myself upon having such a correspondent, as also upon the opportunity afforded your excellency of conferring an honour on me by your reply.

I claim your clemency on behalf of Helladius my special friend.  I pray that he may be relieved from the anxieties of Tax-assessor, and so be enabled to work in the interests of our country.

You have already so far given a gracious consent, that I now repeat my request, and pray you to send instructions to the governor of the Province, that Helladius may be released from this infliction.

To a bishop

Letter CCLXXXII.

To a bishop.

You blame me for not inviting you; and, when invited, you do not attend.  That your former excuse was an empty one is clear from your conduct on the second occasion.  For had you been invited before, in all probability you would never have come.

Act not again unadvisedly, but obey this present invitation; since you know that its repetition strengthens an indictment, and that a second lends credibility to a previous accusation.

I exhort you always to bear with me; or even if you cannot, at any rate it is your duty not to neglect the Martyrs, to join in whose commemoration you are invited.  Render therefore your service to us both; or if you will not consent to this, at any rate to the more worthy.

To a widow

Letter CCLXXXIII.

To a widow.

I hope to find a suitable day for the conference, after those which I intend to fix for the hill-country.  I see no opportunity for our meeting (unless the Lord so order it beyond my expectation), other than at a public conference.

You may imagine my position from your own experience.  If in the care of a single household you are beset with such a crowd of anxieties, how many distractions, think you, each day brings to me?

Your dream, I think, reveals more perfectly the necessity of making provision for spiritual contemplation, and cultivating that mental vision by which God is wont to be seen.  Enjoying as you do the consolation of the Holy Scriptures, you stand in need neither of my assistance nor of that of anybody else to help you to comprehend your duty.  You have the all-sufficient counsel and guidance of the Holy Spirit to lead you to what is right.

To the assessor in the case of monks

Letter CCLXXXIV.

To the assessor in the case of monks.

Concerning the monks, your excellency has, I believe, already rules in force, so that I need ask for no special favour on their behalf.

It is enough that they share with others the enjoyment of your general beneficence; still I feel it incumbent upon me too to interest myself in their case.  I therefore submit it to your more perfect judgment, that men who have long since taken leave of this life, who have mortified their own bodies, so that they have neither money to spend nor bodily service to render in the interests of the common weal, should be exempted from taxation.  For if their lives are consistent with their profession, they possess neither money nor bodies; for the former is spent in communicating to the needy; while their bodies are worn away in prayer and fasting.

Men living such lives you will, I know, regard with special reverence; nay you will wish to secure their intervention, since by their life in the Gospel they are able to prevail with God.

Without Address

Letter CCLXXXV.

Without Address.

The hearer of this letter is one on whom rests the care of our Church and the management of its property—our beloved son.

Deign to grant him freedom of speech on those points that are referred to your holiness, and attention to the expression of his own views; so shall our Church at length recover herself, and henceforth be released from this many-headed Hydra.

Our property is our poverty; so much so that we are ever in search of one to relieve us of it; for the expenses of the Church property amount to more than any profit that she derives from it.

To the Commentariensis

Letter CCLXXXVI.

To the Commentariensis.

Whereas certain vagabonds have been arrested in the church for stealing, in defiance of God’s commandment, some poor men’s clothing, of little value otherwise, yet such as they had rather have on than off their backs; and whereas you consider that in virtue of your office you yourself should have the custody of the offenders:—I hereby declare, that I would have you know that for offences committed in the church it is our business to mete out punishment, and that the intervention of the civil authorities is in these cases superfluous.  Wherefore, the stolen property, as set forth in the document in your possession and in the transcript made in the presence of eyewitnesses, I enjoin you to retain, reserving part for future claims, and distributing the rest among the present applicants.

As for the offenders,—that they be corrected in the discipline and admonition of the Lord.  By this means I hope to work their successive reformations.  For where the stripes of human tribunals have failed, I have often known the fearful judgments of God to be effectual.  If it is, however, your wish to refer this matter also to the count, such is my confidence in his justice and uprightness that I leave you to follow your own counsels.

Without address

Letter CCLXXXVII.

Without address.

IT is difficult to deal with this man.  I scarcely know how to treat so shifty, and, to judge from the evidence, so desperate a character.  When summoned before the court, he fails to appear; and if he does attend, he is gifted with such volubility of words and oaths, that I think myself well off to be quickly rid of him.  I have often known him twist round his accusations upon his accusers.  In a word, there is no creature living upon earth so subtile and versatile in villainy.  A slight acquaintance with him suffices to prove this.  Why then do you appeal to me?  Why not at once bring yourselves to submit to his ill-treatment, as to a visitation of God’s anger?

At the same time you must not be contaminated by contact with wickedness.

I enjoin therefore that he and all his household be forbidden the services of the Church, and all other communion with her ministers.  Being thus made an example of, he may haply be brought to a sense of his enormities.

Without address. Excommunicatory

Letter CCLXXXVIII.

Without address.  Excommunicatory.

When public punishment fails to bring a man to his senses, or exclusion from the prayers of the Church to drive him to repentance, it only remains to treat him in accordance with our Lord’s directions—as it is written, “If thy brother shall trespass against thee….tell him his fault between thee and him;…if he will not hear thee, take with thee another;” “and if he shall” then “neglect to hear, tell it unto the Church; but if he neglect to hear even the Church, let him be unto thee henceforth as an heathen man, and as a publican.”  Now all this we have done in the case of this fellow.  First, he was accused of his fault; then he was convicted in the presence of one or two witnesses; thirdly, in the presence of the Church.  Thus we have made our solemn protest, and he has not listened to it.  Henceforth let him be excommunicated.

Further, let proclamation be made throughout the district, that he be excluded from participation in any of the ordinary relations of life; so that by our withholding ourselves from all intercourse with him he may become altogether food for the devil.

Without address. Concerning an afflicted woman

Letter CCLXXXIX.

Without address.  Concerning an afflicted woman.

I consider it an equal mistake, to let the guilty go unpunished, and to exceed the proper limits of punishment.  I accordingly passed upon this man the sentence I considered it incumbent on me to pass—excommunication from the Church.  The sufferer I exhorted not to avenge herself; but to leave to God the redressing of her wrongs.  Thus if my admonitions had possessed any weight, I should then have been obeyed, for the language I employed was far more likely to ensure credit, than any letter to enforce compliance.

So, even after listening to her statements that contained matter sufficiently grave, I still held my peace; and even now I am not sure that it becomes me to treat again of this same question.

For, she says, I have foregone husband, children, all the enjoyments of life, for the attainment of this single object, the favour of God, and good repute amongst men.  Yet one day the offender, an adept from boyhood in corrupting families, with the impudence habitual to him, forced an entrance into my house; and thus within the bare limits of an interview an acquaintanceship was formed.  It was only owing to my ignorance of the man, and to that timidity which comes from inexperience, that I hesitated openly to turn him out of doors.  Yet to such a pitch of impiety and insolence did he come, that he filled the whole city with slanders, and publicly inveighed against me by affixing to the church doors libellous placards.  For this conduct, it is true, he incurred the displeasure of the law:  but, nevertheless, he returned to his slanderous attacks on me.  Once more the market-place was filled with his abuse, as well as the gymnasia, theatres, and houses whose congeniality of habits gained him an admittance.  Nor did his very extravagance lead men to recognise those virtues wherein I was conspicuous, so universally had I been represented as being of an incontinent disposition.  In these calumnies, she goes on to say, some find a delight—such is the pleasure men naturally feel in the disparagement of others; some profess to be pained, but shew no sympathy; others believe the truth of these slanders; others again, having regard to the persistency of his oaths, are undecided.  But sympathy I have none.  And now indeed I begin to realise my loneliness, and bewail myself.  I have no brother, friend, relation, no servant, bond or free, in a word, no one whatever to share my grief.  And yet, I think, I am more than any one else an object of pity, in a city where the haters of wickedness are so few.  They bandy violence; but violence, though they fail to see it, moves in a circle, and in time will overtake each one of them.

In such and still more appealing terms she told her tale, with countless tears, and so departed.  Nor did she altogether acquit me of blame; thinking that, when I ought to sympathise with her like a father, I am indifferent to her troubles, and regard the sufferings of others too philosophically.

For it is not, she urged, the loss of money that you bid me disregard; nor the endurance of bodily sufferings; but a damaged reputation, an injury involving loss upon the Church at large.

This is her appeal; and now I pray you, most excellent sir, consider what answer you would have me make her.  The decision I have come to in my own mind is, not to surrender offenders to the magistrates; yet not to rescue those already in their custody, since it has long ago been declared by the Apostle, that the magistrates should be a terror to them in their evil-doings; for, it is said, “he beareth not the sword in vain.”  To surrender him, then, is contrary to my humanity; while to release him would be an encouragement to his violence.

Perhaps, however, you will defer taking action until my arrival.  I will then shew you that I can effect nothing from there being none to obey me.

To Nectarius

Letter CCXC.

To Nectarius.

May many blessings rest on those who encourage your excellency in maintaining a constant correspondence with me!  And regard not such a wish as conventional merely, but as expressing my sincere conviction of the value of your utterances.  Whom could I honour above Nectarius—known to me from his earliest days as a child of fairest promise, who now through the exercise of every virtue has reached a position of the highest eminence?—So much so, that of all my friends the dearest is the bearer of your letter.

Touching the election of those set over districts, God forbid that I should do anything for the gratification of man, through listening to importunities or yielding to fear.  In that case I should be not a steward, but a huckster, battering the gift of God for the favour of man.  But seeing that votes are given but by mortals, who can only bear such testimony as they do from outward appearances, while the choice of fit persons is committed in all humility to Him Who knows the secrets of the heart, haply it is best for everybody, when he has tendered the evidence of his vote, to abstain from all heat and contention, as though some self-interest were involved in the testimony, and to pray to God that what is advantageous may not remain unknown.  Thus the result is no longer attributable to man, but a cause for thankfulness to God.  For these things, if they be of man, cannot be said to be; but are pretence only, altogether void of reality.

Consider also, that when a man strives with might and main to gain his end, there is no small danger of his drawing even sinners to his side; and there is much sinfulness, such is the weakness of man’s nature, even where we should least expect it.

Again, in private consultation we often offer our friends good advice, and, though we do not find them taking it, yet we are not angry.  Where then it is not man that counsels, but God that determines, shall we feel indignation at not being preferred before the determination of God?

And if these things were given to man by man, what need were there for us to ask them of ourselves?  Were it not better for each to take them from himself?  But if they are the gift of God, we ought to pray and not to grieve.  And in our prayer we should not seek our own will, but leave it to God who disposes for the best.

Now may the holy God keep from your home all taste of sorrow; and grant to you and to your family a life exempt from harm and sickness.

Translated by Blomfield Jackson, in the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, second series, vol. 8 (1895), edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace. In the public domain. The editors’ footnotes are left out. About this book