John Chrysostom, Letters

such a change to come upon a fervent soul. But perhaps has sickness seized you? But this could not have become an impediment to writing. Since, therefore, we do not know the reason, along with breaking the silence, also tell us the reason for the silence, and send us a letter quickly, bringing us the good news of your health. For thus you will grant us the greatest favors, and you will provide much consolation for our solitude, if we should receive such letters. But do not be negligent; for if even after this letter you remain silent, we will no longer grant you forgiveness, but we will indict you for the utmost thoughtlessness. But I know that this is more bitter to you than any punishment. 104. To Aetius. We can never forget your love, that which is fervent, and genuine, and fiery, sincere and guileless, but we carry you about continually in our mind, and have you engraved upon our conscience. And we wished indeed to see you continually; but since this is not yet possible, through letters we fulfill our desire, rendering the due greeting to your piety, and we ask you also to write to us continually. For even if we live in great solitude, and are besieged by fear of robbers, and happen to be in sickness, yet if we receive letters from your nobleness, bringing us the good news about your health, we will reap much consolation even while being in a foreign land. Knowing, therefore, what great favors you will grant us, and how much gladness you will provide us, do not begrudge us so great a pleasure, but be eager to write to us more often; for from this we will reap much pleasure. 107. To Studius, Prefect of the City. I know indeed that, being intelligent, and knowing how to philosophize, even before our letters you will bear with meekness the departure of the blessed brother of your magnificence; for I would not call it death. But since it is also necessary for us to contribute what is from ourselves, I exhort your wonderfulness, most magnificent lord, to show yourself in this time, not so as not to grieve—for this is impossible, being a man, and entwined with flesh, and missing such a brother—but so as to set a measure to the grief. For you know the perishable nature of human things, and that events imitate the nature of river streams, and that one must count as blessed only those who end the present life with a good hope. For they do not come to death, but from the contests to the prizes, from the wrestling matches to the crowns, from the troubled sea to a waveless harbor. Thinking on these things, therefore, comfort yourself, since we too, grieving not in an ordinary way, have the greatest consolation for our pain in the virtue of the man, which I think brings the greatest comfort to you yourself as well. For if the one who departed was some wicked man, and full of evil, it would be necessary to mourn and lament on his account; but since he was such a man and lived in such a way, as the whole city knows, with reasonableness, with kindness, always honoring what is just, using fitting boldness, freedom, courage, considering present things as nothing, but becoming a stranger to worldly care, it is necessary to exult, and to rejoice with him, and for your wonderfulness, that you sent forth such a brother, henceforth in an inviolable treasury, having the good things which he had when he departed. Therefore, do not consider anything unworthy of yourself, my most wonderful lord, by being broken by grief, but show yourself also in the present time, and be pleased to make it clear to us that you have gained something more even from our letters, so that we too, sitting at so great a distance, may take pride in having been able, by a mere letter, to cut away much of this despondency. 108. To Hesychius. What is this? Loving us so vehemently—for you did not escape our notice, since it is impossible for a vehement lover ever to escape the notice of the beloved—you did not deem us worthy of letters, but endured to restrain your love in silence? What ever, then, is the reason? I for my part cannot say; but it would be your part, after breaking the silence, also the

ψυχῆς καὶ θερμῆς τοσαύτην γενέσθαι μεταβολήν. Ἀλλ' ἄρα μὴ ἀῤῥωστία σε κατέσχεν; Ἀλλ' οὐκ ἠδύνατο αὕτη γενέσθαι κώλυμα τῷ γράφειν. Ἐπεὶ οὖν ἀγνοοῦμεν τὴν αἰτίαν, μετὰ τοῦ λῦσαι τὴν σιγὴν καὶ τὴν αἰτίαν εἰπὲ τῆς σιγῆς, καὶ πέμπε ταχέως ἡμῖν ἐπιστολὴν τὰ περὶ τῆς ὑγείας τῆς σῆς εὐαγγελιζομένην ἡμᾶς. Οὕτω γὰρ τὰ μέγιστα ἡμῖν χαριῇ, καὶ τῆς ἐρημίας πολλὴν παρέξεις παράκλησιν, ἃν τοιαῦτα δεξώμεθα γράμματα. Ἀλλὰ μὴ ῥᾳθυμήσῃς· εἰ γὰρ καὶ μετὰ τὴν ἐπιστολὴν ταύτην μένεις σιγῶν, οὐκ ἔτι σοι συγγνώμην δώσομεν, ἀλλὰ γραψόμεθά σε τῆς ἐσχάτης ἀγνωμοσύνης. Οἶδα δὲ ὅτι πάσης σοι τιμωρίας τοῦτο πικρότερον. Ρʹ. Ἀετίῳ. Ἡμεῖς σου τῆς ἀγάπης οὐδέποτε ἐπιλαθέσθαι δυνάμεθα, τῆς θερμῆς, καὶ γνησίας, καὶ πεπυρωμένης, τῆς εἰλικρινοῦς καὶ ἀδόλου, ἀλλὰ διηνεκῶς ἐπὶ διανοίας σε περιφέρομεν, καὶ ἔχομεν ἐγκεκολαμμένον ἡμῶν τῷ συνειδότι. Καὶ ἐβουλόμεθα μὲν καὶ ὁρᾷν σε συνεχῶς· ἐπεὶ δὲ τοῦτο τέως οὐχ οἷόν τε, διὰ τῶν γραμμάτων τὴν ἐπιθυμίαν τὴν ἑαυτῶν πληροῦμεν, τὴν ὀφειλομένην πρόσρησιν ἀποδιδόντες σου τῇ εὐλαβείᾳ, καί σε παρακαλοῦμεν καὶ ἑαυτὸν συνεχῶς ἡμῖν ἐπιστέλλειν. Εἰ γὰρ καὶ ἐν ἐρημίᾳ διατρίβομεν πολλῇ, καὶ ὑπὸ φόβου λῃστῶν πολιορκούμεθα, καὶ ἐν ἀῤῥωστίᾳ τυγχάνομεν, ἀλλ' ἐὰν δεξώμεθα γράμματα παρὰ τῆς εὐγενείας τῆς σῆς, εὐαγγελιζόμενα ἡμῖν περὶ τῆς ὑγείας σου, πολλὴν καὶ ἐν ἀλλοτρίᾳ ὄντες καρπωσόμεθα τὴν παράκλησιν. Εἰδὼς οὖν ἡλίκα ἡμῖν χαριῇ, καὶ ὅσην ἡμῖν παρέξεις τὴν εὐφροσύνην, μὴ φθονήσῃς ἡμῖν τῆς τοσαύτης ἡδονῆς, ἀλλὰ σπούδαζε ἡμῖν συνεχέστερον ἐπιστέλλειν· πολλὴν γὰρ ἐντεῦθεν καρπωσόμεθα τὴν ἡδονήν. ΡΖʹ. Στουδίῳ ἐπάρχῳ πόλεως. Οἶδα μὲν, ὅτι συνετὸς ὢν, καὶ φιλοσοφεῖν εἰδὼς, καὶ πρὸ τῶν γραμμάτων τῶν ἡμετέρων πράως οἴσεις τοῦ μακαρίου ἀδελφοῦ τῆς μεγαλοπρεπείας τῆς σῆς τὴν ἀποδημίαν· οὐ γὰρ ἂν αὐτὴν καλέσαιμι θάνατον. Ἐπειδὴ δὲ καὶ ἡμᾶς ἀναγκαῖον τὰ παρ' ἑαυτῶν εἰσενεγκεῖν, παρακαλῶ σου τὴν θαυμασιότητα, δέσποτα μεγαλοπρεπέστατε, καὶ ἐν τῷ καιρῷ τούτῳ δεῖξαι σαυτὸν, οὐχ ὥστε μὴ ἀλγεῖν τοῦτο γὰρ ἀμήχανον, ἄνθρωπον ὄντα, καὶ σαρκὶ συμπεπλεγμένον, καὶ τοιοῦτον ἐπιζητοῦντα ἀδελφὸν, ἀλλ' ὥστε μέτρον ἐπιθεῖναι τῇ λύπῃ. Οἶσθα γὰρ τῶν ἀνθρωπίνων τὸ ἐπίκηρον, καὶ ὅτι ποταμίων ῥευμάτων μιμεῖται φύσιν τὰ πράγματα, καὶ ὡς ἐκείνους μόνους χρὴ μακαρίζειν, τοὺς μετὰ χρηστῆς ἐλπίδος καταλύοντας τὸν παρόντα βίον. Οὐ γὰρ ἐπὶ θάνατον ἔρχονται, ἀλλ' ἀπὸ τῶν ἀγώνων ἐπὶ τὰ βραβεῖα, ἀπὸ τῶν παλαισμάτων ἐπὶ τοὺς στεφάνους, ἀπὸ τῆς τεταραγμένης θαλάσσης ἐπὶ λιμένα ἀκύμαντον. Ταῦτ' οὖν ἐννοῶν παρακάλει σαυτὸν, ἐπεὶ καὶ ἡμεῖς οὐχ ὡς ἔτυχεν ἀλγοῦντες, με52.722 γίστην τῆς ἀλγηδόνος ἔχομεν παραμυθίαν, τὴν ἀρετὴν τοῦ ἀνδρὸς, ἣν καὶ αὐτῷ σοὶ μεγίστην οἶμαι φέρειν παράκλησιν. Εἰ μὲν γὰρ πονηρός τις ἦν ὁ ἀπελθὼν, καὶ κακίας γέμων, ἔδει θρηνεῖν καὶ ὀλοφύρεσθαι τούτου χάριν· ἐπειδὴ δὲ τοιοῦτος καὶ οὕτω βεβιωκὼς, ὡς ἅπασα οἶδεν ἡ πόλις, μετ' ἐπιεικείας, μετὰ χρηστότητος, τὸ δίκαιον ἀεὶ τιμήσας, παῤῥησίᾳ τῇ προσηκούσῃ χρησάμενος, ἐλευθερίᾳ, ἀνδρείᾳ, οὐδὲν τὰ παρόντα ἡγησάμενος, ἀλλ' ἀλλότριος τῆς βιωτικῆς γενόμενος φροντίδος, ἀγάλλεσθαι χρὴ, ἐκείνῳ τε συνήδεσθαι, τῇ τε θαυμασιότητι τῇ σῇ, ὅτι τοιοῦτον προέπεμψας ἀδελφὸν, ἐν ἀσύλῳ λοιπὸν θησαυρῷ, ἅπερ ἔχων ἀπῆλθεν, ἔχοντα τὰ ἀγαθά. Μὴ τοίνυν ἀνάξιόν τι σαυτοῦ λογίσῃ, δέσποτά μου θαυμασιώτατε, κατακλώμενος τῷ πένθει, ἀλλὰ δεῖξον σαυτὸν καὶ ἐν τῷ παρόντι καιρῷ, καὶ δηλῶσαι ἡμῖν παρακλήθητι, ὅτι γέγονέ σοί τι πλέον καὶ ἀπὸ τῶν γραμμάτων τῶν ἡμετέρων, ἵνα καὶ ἡμεῖς, ἐκ τοσούτου καθήμενοι διαστήματος, καλλωπιζώμεθα, ἀπὸ ψιλῆς ἐπιστολῆς πολὺ τῆς ἀθυμίας ταύτης ὑποτέμνεσθαι δυνηθέντες. ΡΗʹ. Ἡσυχίῳ. Τί τοῦτο; Οὕτως ἡμῶν σφοδρῶς ἐρῶν οὐδὲ γὰρ ἔλαθες ἡμᾶς, ἐπείπερ οὐ δυνατὸν ἐραστήν ποτε σφοδρὸν λαθεῖν τὸν ἐρώμενον, γραμμάτων ἡμᾶς οὐκ ἠξίωσας, ἀλλ' ἠνέσχου σιγῇ κατέχειν τὸν ἔρωτα; Τί ποτε ἄρα τὸ αἴτιον; Ἐγὼ μὲν εἰπεῖν οὐκ ἔχω· σὸν δὲ ἂν εἴη μετὰ τὸ λῦσαι τὴν σιγὴν, καὶ τὴν