Ep. IV.

(In answer to Ep. XIV., of Basil, about 361.)

You may mock and pull to pieces my affairs, whether in jest or in earnest.  This is a matter of no consequence; only laugh, and take your fill of culture, and enjoy my friendship.  Everything that comes from you is pleasant to me, no matter what it may be, and how it may look.  For I think you are chaffing about things here, not for the sake of chaffing, but that you may draw me to yourself, if I understand you at all; just like people who block up streams in order to draw them into another channel.  That is how your sayings always seem to me.

For my part I will admire your Pontus and your Pontic darkness, and your dwelling place so worthy of exile, and the hills over your head, and the wild beasts which test your faith, and your sequestered spot that lies under them…or as I should say your mousehole with the stately names of Abode of Thought, Monastery, School; and your thickets of wild bushes, and crown of precipitous mountains, by which may you be, not crowned but, cloistered; and your limited air; and the sun, for which you long, and can only see as through a chimney, O sunless Cimmerians of Pontus, who are condemned not only to a six months’ night, as some are said to be, but who have not even a part of your life out of the shadow, but all your life is one long night, and a real shadow of death, to use a Scripture phrase.  And admire your strait and narrow road, leading…I know not if it be to the Kingdom, or to Hades, but for your sake I hope it is the Kingdom…And as for the intervening country, what is your wish?  Am I falsely to call it Eden, and the fountain divided into four heads, by which the world is watered, or the dry and waterless wilderness (only what Moses will come to tame it, bringing water out of the rock with his staff)?  For all of it which has escaped the rocks is full of gullies; and that which is not a gully is a thicket of thorns; and whatever is above the thorns is a precipice; and the road above that is precipitous, and slopes both ways, exercising the mind of travellers, and calling for gymnastic exercises for safety.  And the river rushes roaring down, which to you is a Strymon of Amphipolis for quietness, and there are not so many fishes in it as stones, nor does it flow into a lake, but it dashes into abysses, O my grandiloquent friend and inventor of new names.  For it is great and terrible, and overwhelms the psalmody of those who live above it; like the Cataracts and Catadoupa of the Nile, so does it roar you down day and night.  It is rough and fordless; and it has only this morsel of kindness about it, that it does not sweep away your dwelling when the torrents and winter storms make it mad.  This then is what I think of those Fortunate Islands and of you happy people.  And you are not to admire the crescent-shaped curves which strangle rather than cut off the accessible parts of your Highlands, and the strip of mountain ridge that hangs over your heads, and makes your life like that of Tantalus; and the draughty breezes, and the vent-holes of the earth, which refresh your courage when it fails; and your musical birds that sing (but only of famine), and fly about (but only about the desert).  No one visits it, you say, except for hunting; you might add, and except to look upon your dead bodies.  This is perhaps too long for a letter, but it is too short for a comedy.  If you can take my jokes kindly you will do well, but if not, I will send you some more.

[4] ΒΑΣΙΛΕΙΩΙ

Σὺ μὲν σκῶπτε καὶ διάσυρε τὰ ἡμέτερα, εἴτε παίζων, εἴτε σπουδάζων, οὐδὲν τοῦτο πρᾶγμα: μειδία μόνον καὶ τῆς παιδεύσεως ἐμφοροῦ καὶ τῆς φιλίας ἡμῶν ἀπόλαυε: πάντα χρηστὰ ἡμῖν τὰ παρὰ σοῦ, ὁποῖά ποτ' ἂν ᾖ καὶ ὅπως ἂν ἔχῃ. Καὶ γάρ μοι καὶ τὰ ἐνταῦθα σκώπτειν δοκεῖς οὐκ ἵνα σκώψῃς, ἀλλ' ἵνα πρὸς ἑαυτὸν ἑλκύσῃς, εἴ τί γε ἐγώ σου συνίημι, ὥσπερ οἱ τὰ ῥεύματα φράσσοντες, ἵν' ἀλλαχοῦ μεθελκύσωσι. Τοιαῦτα ἡμῖν ἀεὶ τὰ σά.

Ἐγὼ δέ σου τὸν Πόντον θαυμάσομαι καὶ τὴν ποντικὴν ξουφηρίαν καὶ τὴν φυγῆς ἀξίαν μονήν, τούς τε ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς λόφους καὶ θῆρας, οἳ τὴν πίστιν ὑμῶν δοκιμάζουσι, καὶ τὴν ὑποκειμένην ἐσχατίαν, εἴτ' οὖν μυωξίαν μετὰ τῶν σεμνῶν ὀνομάτων τοῦ φροντιστηρίου τε καὶ τοῦ μοναστηρίου καὶ τῆς σχολῆς, λόχμας τε ἀγρίων φυτῶν καὶ βαθυκρήμνων ὀρῶν στέφανον ὑφ' ὧν μὴ στεφανοῦσθε, ἀλλὰ συγκλείεσθε, τόν τε μετρούμενον ἀέρα καὶ τὸν ποθούμενον ἥλιον, ὃν ὡς διὰ κάπνης αὐγάζεσθε, ὦ ποντικοὶ Κιμμέριοι καὶ ἀνήλιοι καὶ οὐ τὴν ἑξάμηνον νύκτα μόνον κατακριθέντες, ὃ δή τινες λέγονται, ἀλλ' οὐδὲ ἓν μέρος τῆς ζωῆς ἄσκιον ἔχοντες, μίαν δὲ νύκτα μακρὰν τὸν ἅπαντα βίον καὶ ὄντως « σκιὰν θανάτου », ἵν' εἴπω τὸ τῆς Γραφῆς. Ἐπαινῶ καὶ τὴν « στενὴν καὶ τεθλιμμένην ὁδόν », _οὐκ οἶδα εἴτε εἰς βασιλείαν εἴτε εἰς Ἅιδου φέρουσαν, σοῦ δὲ ἕνεκεν εἰς βασιλείαν φερέτω, _καὶ τὴν ἐν μέσῳ, τί βούλει, πότερον Ἐδὲμ ὀνομάσω ψευδόμενος καὶ τὴν εἰς τέσσαρας ἀρχὰς μεριζομένην πηγὴν ἐξ ἧς ἡ οἰκουμένη ποτίζεται, ἢ τὴν ξηρὰν καὶ ἄνυδρον ἐρημίαν, ἥν τις ἡμερώσει Μωσῆς ῥάβδῳ πέτραν πηγάσας; Ἔστι γὰρ ὅσον μὲν διαπέφευγε τὰς πέτρας, χαραδρεών: ὅσον δὲ τὰς χαράδρας, ἀκανθεών: ὅσον δὲ ὑπὲρ τὰς ἀκάνθας, κρημνός: καὶ ἡ ὑπὲρ τοῦτον ὁδὸς ἐπίκρημνός τε καὶ ἀμφιτάλαντος τῶν ὁδευόντων τὸν νοῦν συνάγουσα καὶ γυμνάζουσα πρὸς ἀσφάλειαν. Ποταμὸς δὲ κάτω ῥοχθεῖ, οὗτος ὁ Ἀμφιπολίτης σοι Στρυμὼν καὶ ἡσύχιος: καὶ οὐκ ἰχθυοφόρος μᾶλλον ἢ λιθοφόρος, οὐδὲ εἰς λιμνὴν ἀναχεόμενος, ἀλλ' εἰς βάθη κατασυρόμενος, ὦ λίαν ὑψήγορε σὺ καὶ ποιητὰ καινῶν ὀνομάτων. Ἔστι γὰρ μέγας καὶ φοβερὸς καὶ ὑπερηχῶν τῶν ἄνω τὰς ψαλμῳδίας. Οὐδὲν πρὸς τοῦτον οἱ Καταράκται καὶ οἱ Κατάδουποι: τοσοῦτον ὑμῶν καταβοᾷ νυκτὸς καὶ ἡμέρας. Τραχὺς μὲν ὤν, ἄπορος δέ: καὶ θολερὸς μέν, ἄποτος δέ: οὗ τοῦτο μόνον φιλάνθρωπον ὅτι μὴ παρασυρεῖ τὴν μονὴν ὑμῶν, ὅταν αὐτὸν αἱ χαράδραι καὶ οἱ χειμῶνες ἐκμαίνωσιν. Ἃ μὲν οὖν ἡμεῖς ταῖς τῶν Μακάρων νήσοις ταύταις εἴτ' οὖν τῶν μακαρίων ὑμῶν, ταῦτά ἐστι. Σὺ δέ μοι θαύμαζε τοὺς μηνοειδεῖς ἀγκῶνας τὰ βάσιμα τῆς ὑπωρείας ὑμῶν ἀπαγχονίζοντας μᾶλλον ἢ ἀποτειχίζοντας, καὶ τὸν κορυφῆς ὑπερτέλλοντα τένοντα, ὃς Ταντάλειον ὑμῖν ποιεῖ τὴν ζωήν, τάς τε διαρρεούσας αὔρας καὶ τῆς γῆς ἀναπνοάς, αἳ λιποθυμοῦντας ὑμᾶς ἀναψύχουσι, τούς τε ᾠδικοὺς ὄρνιθας, ᾄδοντας μέν, ἀλλὰ τὸν λιμόν, καὶ ὑπεριπταμένους μέν, ἀλλὰ τὴν ἐρημίαν. Ἐπιδημεῖ δὲ οὐδεὶς ὅτι μὴ κατὰ θήραν, λέγεις: πρόσθες, καὶ ὥστε νεκροὺς ὑμᾶς ἐπισκέπτεσθαι. Ταῦτα μακρότερα μὲν ἴσως ἣ κατ' ἐπιστολήν, ἐλάττω δὲ κωμῳδίας. Σὺ δὲ εἰ μὲν οἴσεις μετρίως τὴν παιδιάν, ὀρθῶς ποιήσεις: εἰ δὲ μή, καὶ πλείω προσθήσομεν.