書信集 第 1 章 第 3/11 段

who, holding stillness in the highest esteem, does not bring himself to write letters, but prays that the city may obtain this benevolence — the city which, by his very neighborhood, he adorns, and which he encircles with his prayers.

Since you adorn the realm with piety and make the purple radiant with faith, we take courage to write, and give no thought to our own insignificance;

for you render to the priesthood its due honor.

Considering this, I beseech your Might to deem our wretched region worthy of mercy, and to command that the relief so often granted be confirmed, and that the false accusations brought against it by certain persons not be accepted;

nor should credit be given to a man who bears the name of bishop, yet pursues things foreign to it — the practices of shifty slaves.

...accusations — having fled, he reached the imperial city, and, having taken up the office of an informer, wages war upon the region which he calls his mother, wages war upon tens of thousands of the poor, and because of his enmity toward one man has whetted his tongue against all.

What sort of man he is, then, and in what practices he was reared, I myself will not say, having regard to what becomes me;

but what he has now undertaken clearly bears witness to it.

Concerning the region, I say only this:

that although the whole province has received relief, this region has never enjoyed such benevolence, even though it bears the heaviest of burdens.

Hence many estates have been deprived of their farmers, and many, though still owned, have become utterly deserted;

and for these the thrice-wretched decurions are held liable; and being unable to bear the exaction, some of them beg, and others flee.

The condition of the city has come down to depend on a single man;

and he will not hold out, unless a remedy is applied by your Piety.

I hope that your Serenity will heal the city's wounds, and will add this act as well to your other righteous deeds.

Thanks be to the Savior of all, that He continually adds to your Greatness the honors of higher rank.

Until now, however, I have not written, nor did I immediately make known the joy that arose in me at the crowning of this honor, not wishing to trouble your Magnificence.

And even now I do this only because the region entrusted to me by God stands, as the saying goes, upon a razor's edge.

For the relief was granted at that time when we first enjoyed your presence, and was with difficulty made firm under the most magnificent prefect, the lord Florentius, and has now also been confirmed by the one who holds the same reins of office. Yet a certain man, bearing the name of bishop but pursuing practices foreign to it — fit for the stage — having fled the assembly of the bishops, and that too while the bonds of excommunication still rest upon him, attempts to slander and misrepresent the relief that had been granted, casting truth aside through his enmity toward the illustrious Philip.

For it befits your Greatness to reap this act of justice as well, along with the others, and to gather in the blessings of those you have benefited, and to please the God of all, and to please His genuine servant, the most holy man of God, the lord James, who joins with me in offering this entreaty.

He himself would also have written, if writing were his usual custom.

That all who dwell in the East have been disposed toward your Magnificence just as children toward an affectionate father, your Greatness knows precisely.

For what reason, then, have you come to hate those who love you, and have deprived them of your forethought, and have made everyone weep and lament, preferring your own ease to the benefit of others? For indeed I do not think that any who fear the Lord fail to be greatly distressed at the loss of your command.

I think that all the others too, even if they do not possess exact knowledge of divine things, receive the same feeling of despondency, as they reckon up your benefactions.

But I especially lament, remembering both the honor and the sincere disposition you have shown;

...that He may grant you an abundance of good things.

We beg your Highness, though absent, to take thought for us as though present, in the accustomed manner, and to put an end to the madness of a certain unworthy bishop of ours, whose course of life your Greatness knows more precisely than we could tell.

For he is attempting, as I have learned, to destroy our region utterly, having taken up the office of an informer, and slandering the relief that had been granted.

And this, one might almost say, is known to all: the exceedingly heavy tax-assessment of our region, and how many of the estates have become deserted of their farmers because of it.

But this man, despising exclusion from communion and having fled from the holy synod, let loose his tongue against the wretched poor.

Let your Magnificence, then, be entreated to give heed to this, lest falsehood prevail over truth.

And I offer the same entreaty also on behalf of the Cilicians.

For we continue in mourning until this lawlessness be brought to an end.

And the Lord of all will render the recompense for this diligence — he who has promised to give a reward even for a cup of cold water.

For those who hold justice in high esteem, nothing is sufficient to check this praiseworthy purpose.

And your Magnificence confirms this claim: for, having been grieved at what was previously reported, and unable to bear seeing justice under assault, you cast off discouragement at the opportune moment and justly silenced the enemy of truth.

Having learned these things, we have been the more warmly disposed toward your Magnanimity, finding true philosophy blended with rhetorical skill; and we entreat you the more earnestly both to overthrow falsehood with what is best, and to confirm the consolation of the wretched poor.

Last year your Holiness delivered the distinguished Philip, the leading man of our city, from a grievous storm, and having enjoyed calm through the patronage of your Holiness, he filled our ears with your praises.

But the most reverend bishop So-and-so attempts to render all that diligence useless, slandering the land-survey that had repeatedly been made twelve years before, and taking up an accusation unfitting even for decent slaves.

But I beseech your sacred head both to put a stop to his falsehoods, and to persuade the most illustrious prefects to uphold the ruling which they issued justly and humanely.

For in truth our city received a tax-assessment heavier than that of all the other cities of the province;

and while every other city was relieved, this one has remained, even to this day, paying in excess of sixty-two thousand tax-units. At last, late and with difficulty persuaded, those who held that lofty office sent inspectors to survey the region;

and the report sent by them was first received by Isidore of magnificent memory, and was confirmed by the most glorious and Christ-loving lord Florentius.

and he who now holds these reins, having examined the whole matter with still greater accuracy, and adorning that office with justice, ratified it by imperial decree.

But this 'truth-loving' man, on account of his enmity toward a single individual — I mean the distinguished Philip — has taken up war against the poor.

...to demonstrate what is unanswerable, and to expose the vanity of falsehood.

For I wrote not merely three times, but even four times.

either those who undertook to carry my letters have failed in their delivery, or your Piety, having received them, and then desiring more, has been weaving against us a charge of negligence.

But, as I said, this accusation does not grieve me;

for it betokens to me a spark of affection.

Hold, then, to this practice, and do not cease writing, thereby continuing to procure for us the pleasure it brings.

Mirrors are so made by nature as to take the impression of the faces of those who look into them.

Those, then, who look into them see their own likeness.

And the pupils of the eyes do the very same thing;

for they imprint within themselves the features of those looking into them.

Something of this sort has happened also to your Holiness.

For it has not seen our unsightliness, but has seen and admired its own beauty.

For none of the things you have said actually belong to me.

Yet I pray nonetheless that those words may be confirmed by deeds;

and I beseech your Godliness to lend assistance through prayer, lest these praises go lame, stripped bare of truth.

Words often paint the characters of souls, and reveal their invisible forms;

just as, indeed, your Piety's letter has now conveyed the piety of your sacred soul.

For to await that tribunal, to be afraid, to look about for advocates, and to weave a defense beforehand — all this clearly proclaims the soul's earnestness concerning things divine.

But we are somewhat sluggish and drowsy, reared together with indolence, and in need of much help from prayers.

Extend these to us, then, most God-beloved one, so that, rising up now at last, we may take some care for our soul.

Admirable indeed in themselves are the achievements of virtue;

but they appear still more admirable when they find a tongue able to recount them brilliantly.

Of neither of these has the most God-beloved bishop, the lord Thomas, fallen short;

for he himself has undergone labors on behalf of piety;

and he has had, in your Piety's own tongue, one that worthily praises his labors.

And we beheld him the more gladly, coming as he did bearing such testimony;

and having enjoyed his company for a short while, we sent him on his way to the city entrusted to him.

Providing, I think, for the common salvation, the God of all brings various calamities upon various persons, so that for those who have sinned discipline may become a remedy warding off evil; for the athletes of virtue, a matter for endurance; and for those who behold these things, a beneficial pattern.

For first, calling to mind their former prosperity, and beholding the sudden change, I perceive the swift reversals of human affairs, and I am taught neither to place confidence in prosperity as though it would last, nor to be distressed at misfortunes as though they were unbearable.

Then I renew within myself the memory of my own transgressions, and I fear lest I fall into sufferings of the same kind.

But I have been compelled to write these things now, in order to make known to your Holiness the most God-beloved bishop Cyprian;

who hails from much-storied Libya, but has been compelled to wander in foreign lands on account of the cruelty of the barbarians.

And he has brought us letters from the most holy bishop, the lord Eusebius, who wisely governs the nation of the Galatians.

Let your Godliness receive him with your accustomed kindness, and send him on his way with letters to whatever lords and most God-beloved bishops you may wish;

so that he himself may enjoy tangible relief, while in return bestowing upon them heavenly and enduring gains.

And knowing, most God-beloved one, the generosity and munificence of your right hand, I bring to your Holiness a desirable gain.

For just as those gaping after present things are vexed at the sight of those in need of monetary assistance,

so the appearance of such persons gladdens the generous, since they aspire to heavenly things.

One, then, of those who procure such gains is the most God-beloved bishop Cyprian;

who was once numbered among those who assisted others, but now, lamenting the calamities of Libya, looks to the hands of others, and awaits the generosity of God-loving souls.

Let him, therefore, also enjoy your brotherly love, and be sent forward with letters to other havens.

The divine and saving festivals both revive the despondent and make the cheerful even more cheerful;

and this I have learned by experience.

For though I was being submerged beneath the waves of despondency, I overcame the surge when I beheld the harbors of the feasts.

Despondency has affected us grievously; for we were allotted a human nature, not one of adamant.

At once, therefore, I write in keeping with the custom of the feast, and address your Magnificence, whom I pray may prosper and excel.

My grief is still at its height, and it assails my reason grievously;

yet I have judged it right to fulfill the observance of the divine feast.

At once, then, I have taken up my pen, and I address your Reverence, and thereby pay the debt owed by love.

But I thought it wrong to hide my good cheer in silence, and not to make it known by letter.

For your Magnificence is surely persuaded that we are ardent admirers of your Magnificence, having received from you the recompense of affection.

And as such admirers, we beseech the Bestower of good things to inundate you always with His manifold gifts.

For knowing that the affairs hang upon your judgment, and seeing the public cares that weigh upon you, I judge it better to remain silent;

But knowing again the breadth and spaciousness of your understanding, I cannot bear to keep silence, fearing lest I be charged with negligence in writing.

And longing pricks me too, which the brief taste of the sight of you produced.

For the sickness and death of that thrice-blessed head deprived me of my fill of him.

For this reason I contrive for myself, as a medicine of solace, these letters.

Sincere friendships neither distance of place has power to dissolve, nor does time make them fade.

For time ravages bodies, stripping away their bloom and bringing on old age;

but it increases the bloom of friendship, supplying it with ever more kindling.

This letter is conveyed by Patroinus the draconarius, a man most deserving of respect for the virtue of his soul;

for he is eager to keep the divine laws with great zeal.

Deign, therefore, most admirable one, to inform us through him of the health of your Greatness, which we so admire, and of the thrice-longed-for fulfillment of your promise.

We hear that your Holiness is adorned with many other kinds of virtue as well — for winged Report, running everywhere, has filled the ears of all with the fame of your renown —

and not least of all do they all celebrate the moderation of your disposition;

For being by nature exalted — or rather, being God Most High — having become man, He embraced a gentle and humble disposition.

Looking then to Him, you do not regard, my Lord, the multitude of your subjects, nor the height of your throne, but you look to nature and the sudden reversals of life, and you follow the divine laws, whose observance procures the kingdom of heaven.

Hearing of this humility of your Holiness, I take courage to embrace, by letter, your sacred and God-beloved head, and I promise prayers, whose fruit is salvation.

...to set out a full banquet, and to send to those who hunger the admirable feast of words.

I did not neglect, on receiving recently the two letters of your Piety, to reply; rather I wrote back at once, and gave the letter to the most God-beloved presbyter Eusebius.

But since some delay occurred, the present letter was put off until now.

For the season now kept the ships within the harbors, displaying the sea's storminess and granting sailors and pilots their rest.

I discharge, then, this debt for the present — not that I may no longer owe it, but that I may increase the debt; for this obligation, when paid, becomes manifold.

For those who are zealous to keep the laws of friendship stir up its charm, make it warmer, and turn the spark into a blaze;

and, being set ablaze by this, they vie with one another, each striving to outdo the other in longing.

"Live unnoticed" — thus spoke one of those anciently called wise.

But I, having approved the maxim, wished to confirm the saying by deed.

For I did not think it unreasonable to gather what is useful even from others.

For they say that bees gather their honeycombs and draw their sweet dew not only from edible plants but also from bitter herbs.

And I myself have seen them settle even on barren rocks and draw up the little moisture found there.

Much more just, surely, is it for those endowed with reason to reap benefit from every quarter.

I, then, as I said, try to live unnoticed, and above all things I embrace quiet.

But when the most God-fearing presbyter Eusebius returned recently from your company, he reported that a certain gathering had taken place among you, and that in the course of some conversation mention was made of us as well, and that your Piety spoke favorably in remembering my insignificant self.

But I thought it thankless, and altogether unjust, not to repay in like measure one who had remembered me so well and so kindly.

For even if we have done nothing worthy of praise, still we admire the intent of those who praise us so.

For such praise is the offspring of love.

I therefore address your Piety, employing as bearer of this letter that same man who recently conveyed to us the unwritten words you spoke concerning us.

For you began with spoken words, but I with a written letter;

and I have repaid your words with letters.

Of the other blessings of the feast we partook as usual.

but the storm afflicting the Churches did not allow us to partake of unmixed joy.

For if, when one member is in pain, the whole body shares in the suffering, how, when the whole body is in turmoil, can one help but lament? And our despondency is increased by the thought that these events are a prelude to total apostasy.

...that we may be able, according to the divine Apostle, to withstand in the evil day.

But if any time yet remains for the frame of this present life, [we pray] that the tempest may be dispersed, and that the Churches may recover their former calm;

lest the enemies of the truth should exult overlong in our calamities.

for they did not know precisely the fruit of the Passion.

But when they came to know the salvation that sprang from it, they called the proclamation of the Passion "gospel," and offered it eagerly to all mankind.

And those who have believed — their minds having been enlightened — receive this gladly and keep festival in memory of the Passion, making the time of His death an occasion for public feasting and festal celebration.

For the Resurrection, joined to it, drives away the lament for death, and becomes a pledge of the common resurrection.

Having partaken at present of this feast, we address your Piety, sending forth the tidings of the feast like a kind of sweet fragrance.

To be assailed by the sufferings common to humanity is common to all men;

but to bear them nobly and to prevail over their assault is not common to all.

For the former belongs to nature, the latter to moral choice.

And this philosophy is produced by the rational faculty within us, which governs the passions rather than being led by them.

And grief is one of the sufferings common to humanity;

but it is easy for men such as you to conquer this passion, reckoning with nature and considering the fruitlessness of mourning.

For what benefit will it be to the departed, if we lament and give ourselves over to dirges? When, then, we call to mind the common travail of birth shared by all, and the long duration of his familiar company, and his brilliant commands, and his much-celebrated feats of valor, let us consider that he too who was adorned with these was but a man, and subject to the appointed limit of death;

and besides this, that God governs all things, and knowing more exactly what will be beneficial, steers the affairs of men toward it.

These things I have written within the compass proper to a letter, entreating your Magnanimity to grant, for the sake of us all, your own good health — which cheerfulness, as we know, preserves, and despondency undermines.

To the thrice-longed-for festival, she who bore and nurtured you calls you.

For the sacred shrine has now received its roof, and has taken on its fitting adornment as well, and it longs for the inhabitants for whom it was built.

Adorn, then, the feast with your presence, and draw forth the blessings that gush from it, and make the festival more delightful to us.

It is your task, O most excellent one, to call others also to the festival of the dedication.

For it is through your zeal and eagerness that the divine shrine has been built, and the loud-voiced heralds of the truth have arrived, who are to dwell in it and to guard those who approach it in faith.

Yet I write nonetheless, to signify the time of the feast.

I wished to summon you, not only as fellow-citizens, but as fellow-believers and companions of the same tabernacle, to the festival of the holy Apostles and Prophets;

but the affliction of prejudice does not allow it.

For this reason I put forward only the just claims of the motherland that bore you, and I entreat you to partake of the beloved blessing of the holy Apostles and Prophets.

If the bonds of necessity did not restrain me, I would have hastened at once, on learning of the falling asleep of the magnificent and celebrated spouse of your Excellency.

For I owe you a great many thanks, having in various ways enjoyed every kind of honor at your hands.

But since I was, against my will, prevented from paying this debt, I thought it unfitting to send a letter at the very height of your mourning, since neither could the letter-bearer gain access to your Dignity, nor would grief permit you to attend to letters.

But now that reason has at last had room to recover, to restrain this passion, and to correct the excess of mourning, I have taken courage to write and to entreat your Excellency — who has considered human nature, reckoned with the commonality of this suffering, and, besides, has been schooled in divine things — to measure your despondency by faith.

For that man, most excellent in all things, has not died, according to the word of the Lord, but sleeps a sleep longer than is customary.

This promise we have received from the divine oracles.

I know indeed how painful separation is, and exceedingly painful, especially when a harmony of characters and a longer span of time have increased the friendship;

but let the grief be for a journey abroad, not for death.

with which I entreat that your Gravity, too, be adorned.

But I offer this counsel, not as one afflicted with insensibility;

for in truth I was pained at heart, when I learned of the departure of that head so dear to me.

But I called to mind the Ruler of all things, and His ineffable wisdom, which orders all things for our benefit.

for employing ineffable providence, He governs our affairs.

Worthy of tragedy is the story concerning the most noble Maria.

For she is the daughter of the most magnificent Eudaemon, as she herself says and certain others have also testified.

But in the calamity that befell Libya, she fell from her ancestral freedom, and passed into slavery.

Certain merchants, having bought her from the barbarians, sold her to certain persons dwelling in our region.

Together with her was also sold a young maidservant, who had long held the station of a household servant with her;

thus together they bore the bitter yoke of slavery, both the maidservant and the mistress.

The maidservant was of a distinguished character; she did not forget her former relation as servant to her mistress;

but preserved her goodwill through the calamity, and after attending upon their common masters, she would attend also upon her who was now reckoned her fellow slave, washing her feet, tending her bedding, and likewise taking care of all her other needs.

This became known to those who had bought them.

From this it was noised abroad throughout the city, both her free birth and the maidservant's good character.

Having learned this, the most faithful soldiers stationed among us — for I was absent at that time — paid the price to the purchasers and rescued her from slavery.

Upon my return, having been informed both of the drama of the calamity and of the soldiers' praiseworthy zeal, I prayed for blessings upon them, and committed the most noble young woman to one of the most reverend deacons, having instructed that a sufficient allowance of food be provided for her.

And when certain persons said that very many merchants from the West were putting in at the festal gathering now being celebrated among you, she asked to make the journey together with letters from me.

For this reason I have written this letter, entreating your Piety to take thought for this noble offshoot, and to instruct someone adorned with reverence to confer with the shipmasters, pilots, and merchants, and to hand her over to trustworthy men able to restore her to her father.

For assuredly they will gain very much, beyond all human hope, by bringing the child back to her father.

All admire your Valor, tempered as it is with gentleness and mildness, showing itself mild toward your own people, but valiant toward enemies.

These things show you to be a praiseworthy general.

For valor adorns the soldier, but the general is adorned, even before valor, by prudence;

and along with these, temperance and justice, through which the wealth of virtue is amassed.

This the soul that reaches out for good things gathers;

and it accounts labor most pleasant, looking to the sweetness of the fruits.

For to the athletes of virtue, God of all things, like some munificent judge of the games, has set forth prizes — some in this present life, and others in that life which has no end.

Of the prizes belonging to this life, your Greatness has enjoyed them, and has received the highest honor;

but may your Magnanimity also attain to those abiding and enduring goods, and, along with the consular robe, receive also that ineffable and divine vesture.

For this is the common prayer of all who know the greatness of that gift.

When the darkness of ignorance was poured out over mankind, not all celebrated the same festivals, but had their festal gatherings divided city by city;

and different peoples celebrated public feasts in honor of different demons.

But since the intelligible Light scattered that mist, everywhere on land and sea, mainland-dwellers and islanders alike, in common, celebrate the festivals of our God and Savior;

and wherever one might wish to travel, whether toward the rising sun or toward its setting, everywhere he will find the same festival being celebrated at the same time.

but every city, and every village, and fields, and remote borderlands, have been filled with divine grace;

and in every place divine shrines and sacred precincts are consecrated to the God of all.

For this reason we who are neighbors greet one another also by letters, signifying the gladness of heart that arises from the festival.

This I too now do, and I offer this festal greeting to your Magnificence.

And she will surely return the like in kind, and will honor the law of the festival.

Admiring Themistocles son of Neocles, that most excellent and admirable general, the historian has attested to him only a natural virtue;

but of Pericles, son of Xanthippus, he said that he had additionally acquired skill from education, and that persuasion dropped from his words, and that by this he charmed his hearers, and was able both to discern what was needful and to expound it.

For it is not unfitting, when writing about him, to make use of his own words.

These things also add lustre to your Magnificence.