and having been long since worn down by the winter season, we feel nothing of all this, because of the greatness of your commendation; but we exult, and we rejoice, and we take great pride in this your such great patience. In order, therefore, that we may continually rejoice, write these things to us, and write to us most frequently, both about these matters and about your own health. For you will afford us great joy from this, and pleasure.
CC. To Callistratus, Bishop of Isauria.
I indeed was longing to see your reverence here, that I might enjoy your company, and partake of your sincere and fervent love; but since that is not yet possible, both because of the season of the year and the length of the journey, I pay the greeting due to you by letter; and I give thanks to your reverence, because you have deigned to urge us by your letters. For this is the mark of a fervent and sincere friendship; you have acted not only not unsuitably, but also very fittingly for yourself. Bestow this favor upon us now, therefore, continually, and give us news of your health more frequently. But if it is possible that your reverence should undertake the labor of coming to us, you will bind us with the greatest benefit, and will fill us with much joy. Since, therefore, you understand that we also desire to see your reverence, and that the matter is not very laborious, if the time is appropriate for travel, do not deprive us of your company. Until that happens, be persuaded to craft the pleasure that results from your presence by means of frequent letters.
CCI. To Herculius.
Do not labor to seek an apology for your long silence, and take refuge in the scarcity of letter-carriers, my lord requested and most magnificent. For us, whether you write or are silent, we can in no way be moved from the opinion and judgment we have formed concerning your love; for you have expressed that so clearly through your very deeds that it has become known to the whole city how you burned with a fervent and almost frantic love for us. Nevertheless, though so affected, we desire most eagerly to receive frequent letters from your excellence, which might inform us of the state of your health. For as you yourself said, it brings some small solace in separation if one learns about our health (and it does not escape you how much this is valued by a man who knows how to love, since you yourself know well how to love), so this is most close to our heart. Grant us, therefore, this favor, that while living in such solitude, we may derive much consolation from it.
CCII. To Cyriacus, Bishop.
Are these things to be borne? Are these to be tolerated? Do you consider that even a shadow of an excuse is available to you? While we are established in such sadness, in such a long time, in such turmoil and perturbation, in such tribulation and misery, did you not deign to write us even once? But we have written once, and twice, and often; you, however, have been silent for so long, and you think you have committed a trifling sin, having been so ungrateful toward us? You have cast me into extreme uncertainty and anxiety. For I cannot conceive of a cause for your silence, when I call to mind your fervent and sincere love, of which you have always afforded us a specimen. For I cannot attribute it to sloth; for I know what a vigilant mind you have; nor to fear: for I know your fortitude; nor to lethargy and laziness: for I know your diligence and skill; nor to sickness: although not even that would suffice to hinder you; nevertheless, I learned from those who come from there that you are healthy and enjoy well-being. What then is the cause? I cannot say, but this alone: I grieve and am tormented. Try every means, therefore, to free us from this sorrow. For unless you are willing, having received these letters also, to write to us with great speed, you will inflict the greatest pain upon us: so much labor needs to be applied, so that this sadness of ours may be mitigated.
CCIII. To Sallustius, Presbyter.
I did not grieve in a mediocre way when it was reported to me that you and Theophilus the presbyter had become more slothful. For I know that one of you delivered five homilies up until the month of October, and the other not even one, and this has happened to me more grievously in this solitude. If this is false, therefore, I ask you to indicate it to me; but if it is true, apply a remedy, and stir one another up; since you will inflict very great pain upon me, even though you love me very much. And what is more grievous, since you lead your life in so much leisure and inertia, and do not perform your duty, you will bring much judgment of God upon yourselves. For who would consider you worthy of forgiveness, who, while others are suffering persecution, are being sent into exile, and are being banished, do not strive even according to your ability to help the people tossed by the storm with your presence or teaching?
CCIV. To Paanius.
When you reflect in your mind, my lord most admirable and sweeter than honey to us, that it is heavy and burdensome to be separated from us, thinking what sort of task you are handling, and that you are governing the whole city, or rather the whole world through that city, rejoice and exult. For you are able to take no small pleasure from it with utility. For if those who collect money—which both perishes and destroys those who have it—are filled with such joy, although they are separated for a long time from their homes, wife, children, and all their relatives: who would be able to express in words the pleasantness of those riches and such treasures as you gather for yourself there every day by your presence alone? For I do not say these things for the sake of flattery, as those who hear these things from us here even in your absence know well.