we desire; but lest we harm those who are in need of your hands and your tongue, and close that great harbor and refuge to them, we do not dare to draw you hither. But whenever it is possible, we urge you to write to us constantly, and to bring us good news concerning your health. For in this way, even though we are far apart, we will gather much consolation if we receive such letters from your gentleness.
C CCXXIX. To Severa. (Cucusus, year 404.) I have never seen your nobility with my bodily eyes, but I have seen it most clearly with the eyes of love; since, however great the interval of regions may be, this sight is never severed. For my most loving master Libanius, by describing to us your nobility’s zeal for the orthodox faith and your diligence, has greatly elated us. Therefore, although we have never seen you, we have been the first to leap to letters for your reverence, urging you also to write to us whenever it is possible. For if a letter should come from your gentleness reporting to us concerning your health and that of your whole house, we shall, even while dwelling in a foreign land, gather the greatest consolation from it. For there is nothing equal to love.
CCXXX. To Elpidius the Bishop. (Cucusus, year 404.) I have many thanks for my most loving master Libanius, because he set out from home, and arrived here, and returned again to your reverence, and I know that I owe him special thanks for this. For all my desire is that you should enjoy the honor and service provided by everyone: not because you yourself have need of these things, but because it is beneficial for the Churches, both for those that are being storm-tossed and for those that are untroubled. Receiving him, therefore, for his goodwill, my most honorable and God-beloved master, and having learned everything from him with accuracy, both what is happening at Antioch and our own affairs (for he will tell you these things too, having been with us for a little time, and having learned how we live), send him back rejoicing and glad. For he hangs upon your piety, and is a vehement lover of us. I beg you to greet, in our name, my most loving and honorable master, Asyncretius the presbyter, together with his most loving children, and all your clergy, whom you have taught in a short time to imitate your own love for us. For we have not failed to notice how great a love they show for us, and how they are prepared both to suffer and to do everything for this reason. This is entirely the achievement of your piety.
CCXXXI. To Adolia. (Cucusus, year 404.) We have written to your reverence many times, but this "many times" is not enough for us; rather, we wished to do this every day. For you know how we are disposed toward your gentleness. Since this is not possible, whenever it is allowed, we grant ourselves the greatest of gifts by fulfilling the duty of greeting you, wanting to learn constantly and continuously about your health and your cheerfulness. Therefore, I entreat you, knowing how much you gratify us by writing these things, to take it upon yourself, as a work to be performed, to write these things to us constantly. For even now, we were not in a small way pained that you did not write to us when my most honorable master Libanius, a man known to all, so to speak, and dear to us, was about to arrive here—perhaps because you were unaware. Yet we are pained even for this very reason: that you are ignorant of those coming to us from there. For we do not cease to inquire and search out those who arrive here from your parts, filling our own desire through them whenever it is possible; and this is to write constantly to your gentleness.
CCXXXII. To Carteria. (Cucusus, year 404.) If you knew clearly how much grace you give us by writing, and writing constantly, and bathing your letters with your honey, you would have done everything to be able to send letters to us every day. For we no longer think we are living in Cucusus, nor dwelling in a desert, gathering such cheer from your letters and your genuine love. But to not only send letters, but also to persuade my most loving brother Libanius to set out from there and undertake this journey: how much affection is this? How much care? Because of these things we leap and are glad. For there is nothing equal to genuine love. And you indeed deem us worthy to preserve the same affection which we manifested from the beginning toward your gentleness. But we do not bear to remain at this measure, but are seeking additions to our affection for you every day, granting ourselves the greatest of gifts. For we do not cease to turn over in our minds the nobility of your soul, its simplicity, its freedom, its friendliness, its genuineness, its lack of hypocrisy, and we gather the greatest cheer from the memory of these thoughts. Therefore we entreat you, being confident in our love, not to be pained at all concerning the things sent by your honor, that we sent them back. For we both received them and enjoyed them in our affection; but because we were not in need, we made it known that they are to be kept by your nobility. And if ever we are in need, you shall see with what freedom and confidence we shall write, so that they may be sent to us, thus also observing your word. For at the end of the letter you say: Show that your piety deems us worthy to be trusted, and to use what is yours as our own. If then you wish us to be disposed in this way—just as you indeed wish—and to use your things as our own, whenever I write, then send them. For the very fact of considering them as one's own, this is the greatest thing.