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To Olympias
Do not be anxious on my behalf, nor rack yourself with solicitude, on
account of the severity of the winter, and the weakness of my
digestion, and the incursions of the Isaurians. For the winter is
only what it is wont to be in Armenia; nothing more need be said about
it; and it does not very seriously injure me. For in anticipation of
these things I have devised many plans for averting the mischief which
might arise from them; keeping up a constant fire, setting screens
about the chamber in which I live, using a large number of rugs, and
staying always indoors. This indeed is irksome to me, if it were not
for the benefit to be derived; for as long as I remain indoors I am
not severely distressed by the cold; but if I am compelled to go out a
little, and come in contact with the outer air, I suffer no small
damage. Wherefore I beseech thee dear lady, and entreat thee as a
very great favour to pay great attention to the restoration of thy
bodily health. For dejection causes sickness; and when the body is
exhausted and enfeebled, and remains in a neglected condition,
deprived of the assistance of physicians, and of a wholesome climate,
and an abundant supply of the necessaries of life, consider how great
an aggravation of distress is occasioned thereby. Wherefore I beseech
you, dear lady, to employ various and skilled physicians, and to take
medicines which avail to correct these conditions. For a few days ago
when I suffered from a tendency to vomiting, owing to the state of the
atmosphere, I had recourse amongst other remedies to the drug which
was sent me by my most discreet mistress Syncletion, and I found that
no more than three days' application of it cured my infirmity. I
beseech you therefore to make use of this remedy also yourself and to
arrange that some more of it may be sent to me. For having again felt
somewhat upset, I again had recourse to it, and completely cured my
disorder; for it allays the deep internal inflammation, draws out
moisture on the skin, causes a moderate degree of warmth, infuses no
little vigor, and excites an appetite for food; and all these effects
I experienced in the course of a few days. Let then my most honoured
lord the Count Theophilus be exhorted to take means to send some of
this to me again. And do not be distressed at my wintering here, for
I am in a much more comfortable and sounder state of health than I was
last year; so that if you also would take the requisite care of
yourself, you would be in a far more satisfactory condition. Now if
you say that your ailments have been produced by despondency how is it
that you again ask for letters from me, seeing that you have not
derived any benefit from them in the direction of cheerfulness, but
have sunk so deeply under the tyranny of despondency as even to desire
to depart out of this world. Are you ignorant how great a reward even
of sickness awaits one who has a thankful spirit? Have I not often,
both in person, and through letters, discoursed to you concerning this
theme? But since the pressure of business perhaps, or the peculiar
nature of your sickness, and the quick succession of changes in your
condition do not permit you to retain what I have said constantly and
dearly in your mind, listen once more whilst I try to heal the wounds
of thy despondency by repeating the same incantations: "for to write
the same things," it is said, "to me indeed is not grievous, and
for you it is safe."
2. What is it then which I say and write? Nothing, Olympias,
redounds so much to the credit of any one as patient endurance in
suffering. For this is indeed the queen of virtues, and the
perfection of crowns; and as it excels all other forms of
righteousness, so this particular species of it is more glorious than
the rest. Perhaps what I have said seems obscure; I will therefore
try to make it clearer. What then is it that I affirm? Not the
spoliation of goods, even if one were to be stripped bare of all one's
possessions, not the loss of honours, nor expulsion from one's
country, and transportation to a distant land, nor the strain of
labour and toil, nor imprisonment, and bondage, nor reproaches, and
abuse, and scoffings (not indeed that you are to think the courageous
endurance of such things a slight kind of fortitude, as Jeremiah that
great and eminent prophet proves who was not a little distressed by this
kind of trial); yet not even this, nor the loss of children, even
should they be torn from us in one fell swoop, nor the perpetual
assaults of enemies, nor anything else of that nature, no, nor even
the head and crown of things accounted painful, namely death, terrible
and loathsome though it be, is so oppressive as infirmity of body.
And this is proved by the greatest hero of endurance, who, when he
was encompassed by bodily sickness, thought death would be a release
from the calamities which were depressing him; and when he underwent
all the other sufferings, was not sensible of them, although he
received blow after blow, and at last a deadly one. For it was no
slight matter, but rather an evidence of the most malignant cruelty on
the part of his enemy in dealing with one who was no novice in
suffering, nor entering the lists for the first time, but already
exhausted with the frequent repetition of assaults, to inflict upon him
that deadly blow, the destruction of his children, so cruelly
inflicted moreover that all of either sex were destroyed at the same
moment in early youth and by a violent end, and so instantaneous was
their death that it involved their burial also. For their father
neither saw them laid upon a bed, nor kissed their hands, nor heard
their last words, nor touched their hands and knees, nor did he shut
their mouths, or close their eyes when they were about to die, acts
which tend not a little to console parents who are being parted from
their children; neither did he follow some of them to burial, and find
others on his return home to console him for those who had departed;
but he heard that as they were reclining on their couches at a banquet,
a banquet full of love, not of excess, a table of brotherly kindness,
they were all overwhelmed; and blood, and wine, the cups and the
ceiling, the table, and the dust, and the limbs of his children,
were all mingled together. Nevertheless when he heard these things,
and others before these which were also distressing; for they too had
perished in a distressing way; flocks and whole herds had been
destroyed, the latter having been consumed by fire sent down from
heaven, (so said the evil messenger of this tragedy,) and the former
having been all seized together by various enemies, and cut to pieces
as well as the shepherds themselves; nevertheless I say when he saw
this great storm stirred up in a brief moment of time affecting his
lands, his house, his cattle, and his children, when he saw billow
following billow, and long lines of rocks, and the darkness was
profound, and the surging waves unbearable, even then he was not
tortured by despondency, and scarcely seemed to feel the things which
had happened, save so far as he was a man and a father. But when he
was delivered over to sickness and sores, then did he also long for
death, then did he also bewail himself and lament, so that you may
understand how this kind of suffering is more severe than all others,
and this form of patience the highest of all. Nor is the Devil
himself unaware, of this fact; for when after having set in motion all
these trials he perceived that the hero remained untroubled and
undismayed he rushed to this as the greatest contest of all, saying
that all the other calamities were bearable, as loss of child, or
property, or anything else (for this is what is meant by the
expression "skin for skin") but the deadly blow was when pain was
inflicted on a man's body. And therefore when he had been worsted
after this contest, he had no longer a word to utter, although on
former occasions he had made the most strenuous and shameless
resistance. In this instance however he found that he could not invent
any further shameless device, but hid his face and retreated.
3. Think not however that it is an excuse to justify you in desiring
death, that Job desired it, not being able to bear his sufferings.
For consider the time when he desired it, and the disposition of his
circumstances--the law was not given, the prophets had not appeared,
grace had not been shed forth as it was afterwards, nor had he the
advantage of any other kind of philosophy. For as a proof that more is
demanded from us than from those who lived then, and that harder tasks
are assigned to us, listen to Christ, when He says "Except your
righteousness exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees ye
shall in no case enter into the kingdom of Heaven." Do not think
therefore that to pray for death now is exempt from blame, but hearken
to the voice of St. Paul when he says "To depart and to be with
Christ is far better, but to abide in the flesh is more necessary for
your sake." For in proportion as the strain of the affliction is
increased are the garlands of victory multiplied; in proportion as the
gold is heated does it become purified, the longer the merchant makes
his voyage on the sea, the larger is the freight which he collects.
Do not then think that the labour now allotted to you is a slight one,
but rather that it is higher than all which you have undergone, I mean
that which consists in infirmity of body. For in the case of Lazarus
(and although I may have often said this to you, it nowise hinders me
from saying it now) this bodily infirmity availed for his salvation;
and he departed to the bosom of the man who possessed a dwelling which
he shared with all who passed by, and was continually shifting his home
on account of God's command, and sacrificed his own son, his only
begotten, who had been given him in extreme old age; although Lazarus
had done none of these things yet he obtained this blessing inasmuch as
he cheerfully endured poverty, and infirmity, and friendlessness.
For this is so great a good to those who bear anything bravely that it
releases any one who may have committed the greatest sins from the
heaviest burden of them; or if any one is an upright and just man it
becomes an additional ground of the greatest confidence. For it is a
bright wreath of victory for the just, shining far above the brightness
of the sun, and it is the greatest means of purification for those who
have sinned. On this account Paul delivers the man who had made the
incestuous marriage to "destruction of the flesh," purifying him by
this means. For as a proof that what was done did purify even from so
great a stain hear his words "that his spirit may be saved in the day
of the Lord." And when he was accusing others of another very awful
sin, that of partaking unworthily of the holy table and those secret
mysteries, and had said that such a person will be "guilty of the body
and blood of the Lord," observe how he says that they also are
purified from that grievous stain--"therefore are many weak and
sickly among you." And then by way of proving that they will not be
confined to this condition of punishment, but that some profit will be
derived from it, namely release from the penalties to which the sin is
liable, he added: "for if we would judge ourselves, we should not be
judged. But now when we are judged, we are chastened of the Lord,
that we should not be condemned with the world." Moreover that they
who have lived very righteously derive much benefit from such
chastisement is plain from the case of Job, who was more illustrious
after it than before, and from the case of Timothy, who although he
was such a good man, and entrusted with such an important ministry,
and made the circuit of the world with Paul passed not two or three
days, nor ten or twenty, or a hundred, but many in succession in ill
health, his body being very seriously enfeebled. Paul shows this
where he said "Use a little wine for thy stomach's sake, and thine
often infirmities." And he who raised the dead did not cure this
man's infirmity, but left him in the furnace of his sickness so that
he might therefrom contract a very great abundance of confidence. For
the lessons which Paul himself had enjoyed from his Master, and the
training which he had received from Him, he imparted to his disciple.
For although he was not subjected to bodily infirmity, yet he was
buffeted by trials not less severe, which inflicted much physical
pain. "For there was given unto me" he says "a thorn in the flesh a
messenger of Satan to buffet me" meaning by this the blows, the
bonds, the chains, the imprisonments, the being dragged about, and
maltreated, and tortured by the scourges of public executioners.
Wherefore also being unable to bear the pain occasioned to the body by
these things "for this I besought the Lord thrice (thrice here
meaning many times) that I might be delivered from this thorn." And
then when he did not obtain his petition, having learned the benefit of
the trial, he held his peace, and rejoiced at the things which
happened unto him.
Therefore even if you remain at home, and are set fast in bed, do not
consider your life an idle one; for you undergo more severe pains than
those who are dragged, and maltreated, and tortured by executioners,
inasmuch as in this excessive infirmity of yours you have a perpetual
executioner residing with you.
4. Do not then now desire death, nor neglect the means of cure; for
indeed this would not be safe. On this account Paul also exhorts
Timothy to take the greatest care of himself. As regards infirmity
then enough has now been said. But if it is separation from me which
causes your despondency expect release from this. And I have not said
this now merely to encourage you, but I am sure that it really will be
the case. For if it were not destined to happen, I should long ago,
so at least I think, have departed from this world, considering the
trials which have been inflicted on me. For to pass over all that
occurred in Constantinople, after my departure thence, you may
understand what sufferings I endured on that long and cruel journey,
most of which were sufficient to produce death; what I endured after
my arrival here, after my removal from Cucusus, and after my sojourn
in Arabissus. Yet I have survived all these things, and now I am
in sound health, and great security, so that all Armenians are
astonished that with such a feeble and flimsy frame as mine I can
support such an intolerable amount of cold, or that I can breathe at
all, when those who are habituated to the winter are suffering from it
in no common degree. Nevertheless I have remained uninjured up to the
present day, having escaped the hands of robbers who have repeatedly
attacked us, and yet in daily want of the necessaries of life, and
deprived of the use of a bath; and although since my sojourn here I
have been constantly without this luxury I am now so established in the
habit that I do not even long for the comfort to be derived from it,
but am in sounder health than before. And neither the inclemency of
the climate, nor the desolation of the region, nor the scarcity of
provisions, nor the lack of attendants, nor the unskillfulness of
physicians, nor the deprivation of the bath, nor perpetual confinement
in one chamber as in a prison, and the impossibility of moving about
which I always used continually to need, nor perpetual contact with
fire and smoke, nor fear of robbers, nor a constant state of siege,
nor anything else of this kind has got the better of me; on the
contrary I am in a sounder condition of health than I was elsewhere,
although I then received great care and attention.
Taking all these things then into consideration pray shake off the
despondency which now oppresses you, and do not exact inordinate and
cruel penances from yourself. I sent you the treatise which I have
lately written, that "no one can harm the man who does not injure
himself," and the letter which I now send your honour contends for
the same position. I beg you therefore to go over it constantly, and
if your health permits you, recite it aloud. For if you will, it may
prove an effectual remedy for you. But if you are contentious with
me, and do not try to cure yourself, and will not rouse yourself from
these dismal swamps of despondency in spite of the unlimited amount of
advice and exhortation which you enjoy I shall not on my part readily
consent to send you frequent and long letters, if you are not to derive
any benefit in the way of cheerfulness from them. How then shall I
know this? not by your merely saying so, but by a practical proof,
inasmuch as you lately affirmed that it was nothing but despondency
which caused this sickness of yours. Since then you have yourself made
this confession I shall not believe that you have got rid of your
despondency unless you have got rid of your bodily infirmity. For if
it is the former which causes your disorder, as you say in your
letter, it is obvious that when that has been dispersed the other will
be removed at the same time, and when the root has been plucked up,
the branches perish with it;--and if the branches continue flowering
and flourishing, and producing an unnatural amount of fruit I cannot
believe that you have been set free from the root of your distress.
Therefore do not show me words but facts, and, if you get well, you
will see letters sent to you again exceeding the limits of former
communications. Deem it then no small consolation that I am alive,
and in good health, and that in the midst of such circumstances I have
been set free from sickness and infirmity, which, as I know, is a
great annoyance and vexation to my enemies. It follows therefore that
you should deem this the greatest encouragement, and the crown of your
consolation. Do not call your household desolate, which has now a
higher place assigned to it in Heaven by reason of the sufferings which
it endures. I was grievously distressed on account of Pelagius the
monk. Consider therefore what great rewards they deserve who bravely
hold their ground, when men who pass their time in such a habit of
disci line and endurance are found susceptible of degradation.
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