finally, because, even if you had not written to me with this counsel—that I, a sinner and weak, should first render offices before I received them—it would have to be judged that you did this rather from a pious counsel than from an arrogant one. For since you have obtained the palm of almost all humility and of nearly all the offices, it could not so much be believed that you wished to deny honor to a friend as that you were unwilling to impose a burden. For although it is an honorable and religious zeal to anticipate in humility and to overcome, yet when among such as we are—that is, between the highest and the lowest—a business of this kind is at hand, the greater makes it a matter of more abundant charity, if it yields to the office of the lesser.
These things, my venerable lords, according to my poor opinion I have thought should be written to you, not so much from a presumption of knowledge as from an honoring of your reverence. If you show that you feel otherwise, I will put my hand to my mouth and, after the example of holy Job—who, after the divine voice, in comparison with the God who spoke, acknowledged himself little and weak—I will judge myself, as I am, squalid earth and insincere ash, and will say: 'I have spoken once; I will add no more.' And not undeservedly: for to fall into the error of a false opinion before you know the truth belongs to an untrained and simple mind, but to persevere in it after you have recognized it belongs to the obstinate. Farewell. LETTER VIII. Salvian to his lord and sweet Eucherius, the bishop.
I have read the books which you sent—brief in style, rich in doctrine, easy in the reading, perfect in instruction, equal to your mind and to your piety. Nor do I wonder that you composed so useful and beautiful a work chiefly for the instruction of your holy and blessed children. For since you have built for God in them an outstanding temple, you have adorned it with the doctrine of new learning as though with the topmost summit of your edifice; and, that dispositions holy alike in doctrine and in life might be made illustrious, those whom you had formed by moral instruction you have decked out with spiritual teaching. It remains that the Lord our God, by whose gift such most admirable young men are, may make them equal to your books—that is, that whatever those books contain in mystery, each of them may have in understanding.
And because now by divine dispensation and judgment they have even begun to be masters of the churches, may the goodness of the most benign God grant this: that their doctrine may be the fruit of the churches and yours, and that by their most excellent progress they may adorn both him from whom they were begotten and those whom they themselves shall have begotten by their own instruction. And to me may the merciful God grant this—if not among all things, at least after all things—that those who were once my disciples may now daily be my intercessors. Farewell, my lord and my sweet one. LETTER IX. Salvian to his lord and most blessed disciple, father, son—by instruction a disciple, by love a son, by honor a father—to Salonius the bishop.
You ask of me, O my Salonius, my beloved, why upon the little books lately made for the Church by a certain man of this time the name of Timothy was inscribed. You add moreover that, unless I clearly set forth the reason of the name, while they are entitled 'of Timothy,' they should perhaps be reckoned among the apocrypha. I give thanks and hold it dear that you so judge of me as to think this pertains to the care of my faith—that I should not permit any work of the Church to totter—namely, that a matter of the highest wholesomeness should not be of less worth through the uncertainty of opinion.
To exclude entirely any suspicion of an apocryphal pen, this alone might have sufficed: what I indicated above, namely that the books belong to recent debate and were written by a man of the present time out of zeal and love for divine matters; for those works are free of the suspicion of being apocryphal which are acknowledged not to have belonged to the Apostle Timothy. But perhaps someone asks who that author is, if he is not an apostle, and whether he inscribed his own name upon the little books themselves or another's. It is true: this indeed can be asked, and rightly asked, if the inquiry is able to arrive at some profit. But if it is fruitless, what need is there for curiosity to labor, when the knowledge gained will possess no advantage of curiosity?
For in every book what is sought is rather the profit of the reading than the name of the author. And therefore, if there is profit in the reading, and whoever he may be possesses that which can instruct his readers, what has one to do with a name that cannot help the curious? So that most fittingly that angelic reply may be given to this inquirer: 'Do you seek a native or a hireling?' For since there is no profit in a name, whoever finds profit in the writings inquires needlessly after the writer's name. These reasons, then, as I have said, are sufficient. But because to you, O my Salonius, our ornament and support, we can deny nothing, we shall speak yet more plainly. There are three things which can be asked concerning these little books of which we speak:
why he who wrote should have written to the Church, and whether under another's name or his own; if not his own, why another's; and if another's, why he chose especially the name of Timothy to be inscribed. Now, that the little books should be written to the Church, this is the reason. That writer, as the writings themselves also testify, has within himself such reverence and affection for God that he thinks nothing ought to be preferred to God, according to that saying of our Lord who declares: 'He who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.' Although the most lukewarm and most negligent of men suppose this saying is to be observed only in time of persecution.
As though there were any time at all in which something ought to be preferred to God, or as though he who in time of persecution ought to hold Christ more precious than all things ought at every other time to hold Him cheaper. But if this be so, then we shall owe the love of God to persecution and not to faith, and we shall be devout only when the ungodly persecute us — whereas surely we ought to render to the Lord either a greater affection, or at least no lesser, in tranquil circumstances than in harsh ones.
Because for this very reason He ought to be loved by us the more, in that He does not suffer us to be afflicted by evils, dealing with us in the indulgence of a most loving and most tender Father, who would rather that we display our faith in peace and quiet by the works of religion than prove it in persecution by the sufferings of our bodies. And therefore, if nothing is to be preferred to Him even then, when He deals harshly with us, still less ought anything to be preferred to Him when by His indulgence He deserves the more. But these matters are better suited to another occasion: now let us pursue what we have begun. That writer, then, whom we mentioned, seeing the grave and manifold diseases of well-nigh all Christians, and seeing that by nearly all who are set within the Church not only were all things not put after God, but almost everything was put before Him —
For the drunkards in their drunkenness seem to despise God, and the covetous in their greed, and the shameless in their lust, and the bloodthirsty in their cruelty — and in all these vices well-nigh everyone is involved; and this the more grievously, in that these things are not only committed through most atrocious wickedness over a long time, but are not even afterward corrected through penance — especially since even among those who are said to be penitents, penance is a name rather than a fruit, because words for things that do not possess the things themselves are worth little, and the language of virtues without their power is nothing.
For very many, indeed almost all — even those abounding in wealth and conscious of their own crimes and disgraceful deeds — deign to redeem what they have committed not only not by confession and satisfaction, but not even by that which is easiest, at least by gifts and works of mercy; and not only do they neglect this in prosperity, but — what is far more irreligious — even in adversity, not only when unharmed but even when at the point of death. So great is the unbelief of men and so grievous the sickness of the souls of the faithless, that whereas many leave the greatest riches to their heirs, and sometimes even to strangers, they think this alone to be lost which they have given for their own hope and salvation.
And indeed, though this is grave in almost all, yet it is especially so in those whom, in the like crime of faithlessness, even their profession of holiness accuses. But this same disease belongs not only to worldly men, but even to those who arrogate to themselves the name of religion.
— and therefore that writer, seeing that this evil was common to well-nigh all, and that this plague reached not only worldly men but even penitents and converts, and even to widows who had already professed continence, and to maidens consecrated at the sacred altars, and — what is, so to speak, well-nigh to be reckoned among monstrous things — even to deacons and presbyters, and, what is far more deadly than these, even to bishops; from among whom many, as I said above, without natural affections, without offspring, having neither households nor children, would assign their wealth and substance not to the poor, not to the churches, not to themselves, nor finally — what is greater and more excellent than all these — to God, but especially to worldly men and to the rich and to strangers: there was kindled in his heart, as it is written, a zeal of the Lord like a burning fire.
And because, with his very marrow burning with holy affection, he could do nothing else in such a fervor, he broke forth into a voice of grief. And no one seemed more fitting a recipient for that voice itself than the Church, of which those very persons who did these things were a part. For it is superfluous to write to one man or a few, where the matter concerns all. This reasoning, then, both persuaded and compelled him, that the little books of which we speak should be sent to the Church. Now let us treat the second point, namely, why the author's name is not in the title of the little books. Although there is one chief reason for this, yet there could have been, as I think, many.
And the first comes from the commandment of God, by which we are enjoined to avoid in every way the vanity of earthly glory, lest, while we seek the empty breeze of human praise, we lose the heavenly reward. From which also comes that other commandment: that God, bidding us both pray and give in secret, wills us to commend the fruit of our good work to secrecy, because there is no greater devotion of faith than that which shuns the awareness of men, content with God as witness. 'Let not your left hand,' says our Savior, 'know what your right hand does, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.' And therefore, for that writer, to withdraw his own name from the title:
and to conceal it — this cause alone could suffice, namely, that what he had done in honor of his Lord he might reserve to the divine consciousness alone, and that the deed might become more commendable to God for having shunned public renown. But nevertheless — as must be confessed — that chief reason was this: that the writer, as we read, is humble in his own eyes and lowly to himself, considering himself utterly small and least of all; and — what is greater — this in pure faith, not from an assumed office of humility but from the truth of a genuine judgment. Whence it comes that, rightly thinking that he ought to be reckoned by others such as he was reckoned by himself, he rightly inserted another's name upon his little books, namely, lest the smallness of his own person should detract authority from wholesome writings;
for all things spoken are esteemed as great as is he himself who spoke them. Indeed, so feeble and well-nigh so nonexistent are the judgments of this age, that those who read consider not so much what they read as whose it is they read, nor so much the force and virtue of the discourse as they weigh the dignity of the speaker. For this reason, then, that writer wished by every means to be hidden and to lie concealed, lest his writings, which have in themselves very much wholesomeness, should perhaps be diminished by the author's name. And so, whoever he may be that inquires, he has the reason why he took another's name. It remains to say why Timothy's. And to say this, we must return again to the author. For he is the cause of all the causes:
who, just as he yielded to humility by writing another's name, so yielded to fear and caution by writing the name of Timothy. For he is timid and fearful, and sometimes shrinks even from trivial falsehoods, and is so afraid of sinning that at times he dreads even things not to be dreaded. When, therefore, he wished to withdraw his own name from the title and to insert another's, he feared a lie in this exchange of names, deeming that a stain of falsehood must by no means be admitted even in the discharge of a holy work.
Placed therefore in this uncertainty of doubtful opinion, he believed it would be best to follow the most sacred example of the blessed Evangelist, who, inscribing the name of Theophilus at the outset of both parts of his divine work, though he seems to have written to a man, wrote to the love of God — judging this, namely, most worthy, that he should direct his writings to that very affection for God by which he had been impelled to write. This argument and counsel, then, that writer of whom we speak also employed. For being conscious to himself that he had done all things in his writings for the honor of God, just as the Evangelist had done for the love of God, by the same reasoning by which the Evangelist inscribed the name of Theophilus, by this the writer too inscribed the name of Timothy; for just as by the word 'Theophilus' love, so by 'Timothy' the honor of the Godhead is expressed.
And so, when you read that Timothy wrote to the Church, this you ought to understand: that it was written to the Church for the honor of God — nay rather, that the very honor of God sent the writings. For he is rightly said to have written, through whom it came to pass that it was written. For this cause, then, the name of Timothy is inscribed in the title of the little books. For that writer deemed it fitting that, since he was writing the little books in honor of God, he should consecrate the title to the very honor of the Godhead. You have, O my Salonius, my beloved, you have what you demanded; I have fulfilled the task of the work enjoined upon me.
It remains that, since I have discharged my part, you also discharge yours: that is, that you pray to the Lord our God, and by praying obtain, that these little books, written in honor of Christ's Church, may profit their writer before God as much as he himself desires them to profit all. Nor is it, I think, an unjust desire, whereby one asks that so much be granted to himself for his own salvation as he wishes for all men out of charity. Farewell, my Salonius, our ornament and support.