Nicholas, Patriarch of Constantinople

YEAR OF OUR LORD 925. NICHOLAS PATRIARCH OF CONSTANTINOPLE. NOTICE.

By the Reverend Father God[fried] Henschenius, in *Acta SS. Bolland.*, May volume III, day 15, page 509.

Saint Nicholas had been the *mystikos* of the Emperor Leo the Wise, or Philosopher, of Constantinople; that is, he was not only a senator of his secret council, but the very eye or president of that senate. From this excellent magistracy, he was translated to the patriarchate of Constantinople, and at length, full of days and merits, he departed to Christ on this 15th of May. On this day, in the *tou en hagiois* (among the saints), the deposition of the Constantinopolitan patriarch Nicholas is inscribed in an ancient Synaxary of the Church of Constantinople, which is at the Clermont College of the Society of Jesus in Paris. The sacred memory of the same Patriarch Nicholas is celebrated on the same day in the Milanese manuscripts of the Ambrosian Library, marked with the letter O and number 148, and in one of the Menæa of the Duke of Savoy; in others, however, it is referred to the following day, May 16, as is also the case in the Parisian manuscripts of Cardinal Mazarin. But on the eve, that is, on May 14, in the Dijon manuscripts of Peter Francis Chifflet, it is said that Saint Nicholas, Patriarch of Constantinople, rested in peace, and this distich is added:

Nicholas, leaving behind the shadow of life, Has passed to the shadowless region of light. Umbram relinquens Nicolaus sæculi, Translatus est in nescium umbrarum locum.

1. Among the wives whom Leo the Wise married in succession, the first was Saint Theophano, who is referred by the Greeks to the 16th of December; the fourth was Zoe, who, according to Leo Grammaticus in his *Chronography*, lived in that dignity for one year and eight months—calling this Zoe his maternal aunt, so that the author of this notice on Saint Nicholas can be considered reasonably certain. Therefore, after the death of Saint Anthony Cauleas, the patriarch whom we illustrated in our *Acts* for the 12th of February, Nicholas, the emperor's *mystikos*, was promoted in his place in the year 895, a man whom Cedrenus says was believed to surpass others in wisdom and prudence. What subsequently happened is narrated by Leo Grammaticus, page 481: The city of Taormina in Sicily was captured by the Africans, due to the sloth or, more truly, the treachery of Eustathius, the Drungary of the fleet, and Caramalus, and also of Michael Charactus, found there; for very many of the Romans were slaughtered in that disaster. Having returned to the city, they were reprimanded by the emperor and the patriarch, and having been convicted of treachery by Michael Charactus, they were condemned to death; but upon the intercession of Patriarch Nicholas before the emperor, their lives were spared; and they were merely subjected to scourging, their goods confiscated, and they were thrust among the monks. And on page 483: From Zoe, he says, his fourth wife, Leo had a son, Constantine, who was baptized on the feast of the Lights by Patriarch Nicholas in the Great Church, with the Emperor Alexander, the patrician Samonas, and all the nobles acting as sponsors for the child... The emperor, however, declared this same Zoe Augusta, and for this reason the patriarch prohibited her from the thresholds of the church, so that from that time on she would pass, likewise on the right side of the church, completely abandoning the customary path, as far as the Mitatorium. Samonas was then promoted to the position of *accubitor*, because he provided an auxiliary hand to the emperor in all crime and wickedness, and they began to plot against the Church. Indeed, having summoned Patriarch Nicholas to them on the first day of February, they pressed him with requests that they might be received into the Church. But when they could not sway him, they ejected him from the public banquet to which he had been invited, and having led him through the Bucoleon, they placed him in a boat and crossed over to Hieria, from whence, on foot, he arrived covered in much snow as far as the Galacreni. In his place Euthymius, the *syncellus*, a grave and very temperate man, was appointed, whom they claim received that office through divine revelation. For the emperor wished to impose a heresy and a law by which it would be licit for a man to take three or four wives, with several most learned men lending aid to this. In dealing with wives taken in succession, Leo says this, and Cedrenus agrees, whose interpreter wrongly inserted that it might be licit to take three or four wives simultaneously. Regarding that prohibition formerly promulgated, consult the matrimonial questions of the monk Matthew, in book VI of the first volume of the *Jus Græco-Romanum*, and what Cardinal Baronius [writes] in his *Annals*

^A He inserted it into the year nine hundred and one, where he alleged a constitution promulgated by this Emperor Leo, by which he prohibited a third marriage, and decreed that those who contracted one should be punished according to the sanctions of the sacred canons. Meanwhile, this very same man, who had decreed this, after his third wife had died, took a fourth. On account of this matter, Patriarch Nicholas was ejected from the Church, and all those disturbances followed upon his ejection and the substitution of Euthymius, with the Church divided by schism, some adhering to Nicholas, others indeed to Euthymius. But how this quadrigamy of Emperor Leo fared in the succession of spouses is described from the *Preambles* of Constantine Porphyrogenitus to the Edict of Union from Book II of the *Novellae of Oriental Law*, and it can be seen there in volume I, page 105. But let us hasten rather to the restoration of St. Nicholas to his see, to which Leo Grammaticus, as he writes, leads us by the hand.

3. “When Emperor Leo, tossed by grave illness, had designated his brother Alexander as his successor, and had implored him to protect his son Constantine, he departed this life on the eleventh day of May,” which day of death Cedrenus also assigns. Zonaras designates only the month of May; but Curopalates Scylitzes says he “died on their eleventh of June.” This was the year nine hundred and twelve. “Then,” says Leo Grammaticus, “Alexander reigned together with Constantine, son of Leo, for one year and twenty-nine days; and having sent a messenger to Nicholas at Galacrenae, he deposed Patriarch Euthymius and restored Nicholas for the second time. Alexander held a silentium at the Magnaura ^B and celebrated a council, and called Euthymius from Agatho’s, and having ordered him to sit along with Patriarch Nicholas, the assessors of the trial were more intent upon his deposition, plucking the beard of that venerable man, who was to be admired in all things, and inflicting other insults and injuries, which the honorable and holy man bore quietly and meekly. After which, having finished his life at the abode of Agatho, he was buried in his own monastery near Pe- mathium…” Emperor Alexander, foreseeing that he was to die, bequeathed the empire to Constantine, son of Leo, having appointed as curators Patriarch Nicholas, and Stephen the Magister, and John the Magister Eladas, and John the Rector, and Euthymius, and Basilitzes, and Gabrielopoulos…. And when the latter attained the power of the palace, Patriarch Nicholas provided for the common affairs and bore the care of the daily business of the kingdom….

4. “In the month of August, moreover, Simeon, prince of Bulgaria, having prepared an army against the Romans, arrived at Constantinople with a great multitude; and having led a rampart round from the Blachernae to the gate called St. Chrysus, he besieged the city; and being elated in his own mind with the hope that he would overcome it without any labor,” ^C on account of the fortifications and the abundance of the city’s people and machines, and having glimpsed its security and protection, he returned to the place called the Hebdomon to offer terms of peace. Since the procurators willingly accepted the offered peace, Simeon sent Theodore the Magister to treat concerning it. But Patriarch Nicholas, Stephen, and John the Magister, having taken the emperor with them, set out as far as the Blachernae and brought the twin sons of Simeon into the city, who dined in the palaces together with the emperor. But when Patriarch Nicholas approached Simeon, Simeon himself bowed his head. The patriarch, therefore, about to pray over him, placed his own head covering upon his head in place of a crown. Thus, having been received with immense and very great gifts, Simeon and his sons returned to their homeland, dissonant with one another on account of the conditions of the aforementioned peace….

5. “Constantinian emperor, having declared his mother and all the power of the empire transferred to himself, commanded Patriarch Nicholas and Stephen the Magister to be present with him in the palace…. The emperor and the patriarch ordered John Garidas, who had been summoned, to be Domestic of the Schools, fearing lest Phocas should defect into rebellion…. Nicetas the Patrician, father-in-law of Romanus, having set out into the palace, cast out Patriarch Nicholas from there…. In the fifth week of the holy fasts, in the month of April, the marriage pledge of Helen, daughter of Romanus, is handed over by Emperor Constantine, and on the third day of Easter, called Galilea, it is blessed, and with her, she is crowned with nuptial wreaths by Patriarch Nicholas; and then Romanus is declared the emperor's father, and Christophorus, his son, is appointed Heteriarches in place of Romanus…. But on the twenty-fourth of the month of September, he is adorned by Emperor Constantine and Patriarch Nicholas with the dignity of Caesar; and on the seventeenth of the month of December, at the feast of the birth of Christ the Lord, Romanus is adorned with the imperial diadem: then, on the day of the holy Lights, he crowns his wife Theodora. Following this, on the seventeenth day of the month of May, in the fifth indiction, Christophorus, son of Romanus, is proclaimed emperor, and on the twenty-sixth day of the same month, at the feast of holy Pentecost, he is crowned by Constantine: and these two alone proceeded through the city in the solemn procession of the same day. Moreover, in the month of July, in the eighth indiction, on a Sunday, ^D concord was initiated by Romanus for the whole Church, with all the metropolitans and clerics, who had stood divided in spirit according to the parties of Nicholas and Euthymius, returning to communion….

6. “On the seventeenth of the month of September, in the second indiction, Simeon, prince of the Bulgarians, having led forth all his forces, prepares an expedition against Constantinople. Thence he depopulates Thrace and Macedonia, spreads fires everywhere, overturns all things, and even to the trees…”

… ^A scindit. Having set sail for Blachernae, he requested that Patriarch Nicholas and certain of the nobles be sent to him, so that they might confer about peace. Therefore, after hostages had been given on both sides, first Patriarch Nicholas arrived, then Michael the Patrician Sty piotes, and John the Mystic, who held second place under the emperor. These, indeed, were holding a parley with Simeon regarding peace; but Simeon sent them back: he desired to see the emperor himself, having been informed by many of his prudence, fortitude, and skill.... The emperor, together with Patriarch Nicholas, proceeded to Blachernae and to the holy place, and stretched out his hands in prayer; then, falling prostrate upon the ground, he watered the sacred floor with tears; he besought the Mother of God, who is immune from stain, that she might soften the inflexible and rigid heart of the arrogant Simeon, and inspire him with the things of peace; and having opened the sacred chest where the venerable garment of the holy Mother of God is stored, he took it out from there, and, with the faith in which he excelled toward the immaculate Mother of God, placing it upon his head like a helmet, fortified by strongest arms, accompanied by the fleet, adorned with shields and weapons, he approached to treat with Simeon at the designated spot.... Simeon dismounted from his horse and approached the emperor, and having exchanged greetings, they initiated a treaty of peace.... Simeon, marveling at the emperor’s moderation and his words, spoken with modesty, agreed that peace should be settled. When, therefore, they had bidden each other farewell, they were separated from one another.... [he] crowned his sons, Stephen and Constantine, with the imperial crown: but the patriarch also tonsured his son Theophylact as a cleric, and ordained him subdeacon, and finally promoted him to Syncellus, after he had previously joined him in the procession to the holy entrance together with the subdeacons.... But on the tenth day of the month of May, ^A in the third indiction (d), Nicholas the patriarch died, having held the throne for thirteen years after his second reinstatement; and his body was deposited in the monastery of the Galacrenae, founded by him.

8. Thus far Leo Grammaticus, a contemporary ^C and eyewitness in his Chronography, which some careless amanuensis has thrown into confusion by erroneously defining the indictions. For just as earlier, on page 497, line 7, it is read: "The nineteenth indiction," when only the ninth should have been placed there, so in the transcriptions already made the same ninth indiction is erroneously called the fifth, namely in the year 921, in which Christopher, son of Romanus Lecapenus, was crowned emperor on the 20th of May, on the feast of Pentecost. In that year, indeed, with the lunar cycle at 10 and the solar at 6, the Dominical letter being G, Easter was celebrated on the very Calends of April, and the feast of Pentecost on the said 20th of May. By the same error, then, the eighth indiction is noted for the tenth, the second for the eleventh, and the third for the thirteenth, and so in the Notes of Combefis it is observed that the ninth indiction is to be read in the Continuator. Saint Nicholas therefore died on the 15th of May in the year 925. He was restored to the see by the emperor Alexander, in the year 911, or at the beginning of the following one. For he ruled for only one year and twenty-nine days: and thus for this second time Saint Nicholas presided over the Church for thirteen years. The same Nicholas was called Priscus, or the first of his name, in respect to those who succeeded thereafter, and who were Nicholas Chrysoberges under Basil, son of Romanus Lecapenus, after the year 980, and Nicholas Grammaticus, under Alexius Comnenus the elder, in the twelfth century. Moreover, there exists in volume I of the *Jus Græco-Romanum*, book IV, among the synodal Sentences, a Constitution under the title of Nicholas Priscus, to the effect that patriarchal letters should be granted gratis to those who request them, which can be read in the same place, on page 249.

ANGELO MAI ADMONITION.

1. Our Nicholas was raised to the patriarchal see under the emperor Leo the Wise in the year 895, four years after the death of Photius. The same, after nine years (or after eleven years, as is said in Leunclavius in *Jure Gr. Rom.*, p. 501), was driven from the see by the aforementioned Leo, whom he had opposed in the matter of the fourth marriage, which see he did not recover until the year 911 under Alexander, the brother of the deceased Leo, until he died in the year 924, having spent (the interlude of his exile being deducted) twenty-three years in the governance of the episcopate. By Ephraemius the chronicler, v. 10,050, seqq., he is described before his episcopate as a pious monk, wise, endowed with great fame, and worthy of the Byzantine see, which, before he occupied it, he had served in the office of mystic (which stuck to him like a cognomen), that is, as is commonly understood, he had been a secretary of the more secret imperial council. By the same Ephraemius he is said to be an Italian by race, and formed by nature for eloquence, ἐκφῦς Ἰταλῶν, εὐφυὴς περὶ λόγους. I see this Nicholas gifted with the title of saint by Baronius in his Annals, and by the Bollandists, namely Cuperus in the *Patriarchs of Constantinople*, and Henschenius in the *Acta Sanctorum* on the 15th of May, who, the latter, accurately wrote his acts, drawn especially from Leo Grammaticus. Not to mention the praise of sanctity which among the Greeks is passed…

on in an accumulated way, indeed a rigid manner of life, the subject of which is the treatise of his which we have previously mentioned and edited, and furthermore his pastoral zeal, consistency, and exceptional charity, seem deservedly to have won for Nicholas the reputation of holiness. Now, some will perhaps not absurdly believe that this creates a difficulty for that matter, specifically because in his second letter to the Saracen prince he addresses Photius honorably. However, this is done perhaps by the custom of the Greeks, among whom Photius left a distinguished memory of his doctrine: furthermore, we know that he was reconciled with Pope John long before his death: and finally, a certain piety prompted him to speak of Photius with reverence, because he intimates with these words that he had received his presbyteral consecration from him: *The blessed Photius, who in the Spirit is father.* The reason, however, for naming Photius was that he, when he was patriarch, had been bound by singular benevolence to the Saracen prince to whom Nicholas writes, by his father. Otherwise, under the Emperor Leo, at the time when Nicholas was patriarch, it appears throughout these letters—and specifically in letter LXXV—that there was dogmatic peace (except for the disciplinary controversy of the fourth marriage) between the Roman and Byzantine Churches: "It is known to you that, at the time of the Lord Leo, the pope and those who adhered to him had come to harmony and union with our Church; and since there was profound peace," etc. Therefore, the disagreement and near-schism, which is mentioned not once in other places in the letters, is frequently turned against the Greeks themselves, a part of whom favored the fourth marriage, just as the Romans did. Sometimes, however, there is contention with the Romans as well, especially in the 32nd, the great letter, for they had brought help to the Emperor Leo against their own patriarch, a legation having been sent; but more on these things below.

II. ^B Because of this brief account that must be completed regarding Nicholas, one document remains for me to mention, unknown to other biographers because it lies hidden in the Vatican manuscript code Ottob. CXLVII, p. 132 seqq., bearing this title:

Address to the pious Emperor Leo upon the ordination of the most holy Patriarch Nicholas: improvised.

Symbol of faith provided at the promotion to the episcopate of Nicholas.

…the absurdity and, to the pious, the detestable [notion of] one will in the God-incarnate, of Sergius and Pyrrhus and Cyrus, and as many others as gathered the evil workshop, they abolished.

they appear in our volume just as they lie in the codex, without any restoration of their order, yet to one considering the matter attentively, there seem to be approximately seven classes of these letters: 1. To Saracen princes. 2. To the prince and archbishop of Bulgaria. 3. To the Roman pontiff and the men of his Church. 4. To the Byzantine emperor, and to the princes of Armenia, Abasgia, Lombardy, and Amalfi. 5. To bishops, 6. To civil magistrates. 7. To monks, and to private individuals or un-named persons.

Class the first. IV. There are two letters to the Cretan amir, or prince. That the island of Crete had been under the Saracen amirs from the times of Michael the Stammerer right up to the age of Patriarch Nicholas and Constantine Porphyrogenitus, and indeed even up to [the time of] Nicephorus Phocas, is attested everywhere by Byzantine historians, specifically by Constantine in *De administrando imperio*, ch. 22; and by the writers after Theophanes (Paris ed., p. 185). Nicholas also says (p. 163) that the island of Cyprus was made tributary to the Saracens even earlier, that is, about three hundred years before his own time. Constantine recounts in his *Thematibus* that it was in fact occupied by the Saracens under Heraclius, then recovered by Emperor Basil, and soon after reduced again under the Saracen tribute. Yet Nicholas states (p. 166) that Cyprus was then so subject to the Cretan Saracens as to be almost equally beholden to the Greek empire. He identifies the cause of the recent Cypriot calamity as Damian the apostate, who, having truly become the amir of Tyre, died at that time, as Cedrenus likewise recounts with Nicholas (Paris ed., vol. II, p. 612). Furthermore, Zonaras (book XVI, 14) mentions the naval victory over the Saracens gained by Himerius, the maritime prefect, whom Nicholas also mentions. The aim of Nicholas's letters is to entreat the Cretan amir not to rage against the innocent Cypriots; and to obtain, if possible, the freedom of the captives; among whom, in my opinion, are especially understood those who had fallen into the power of the Saracens at that time on account of the horrific sack of Thessalonica, as is read in contemporary historians: John the Lector, John Cameniates, and Demetrius Cydones. Nicholas also mentions this calamity in ep. 75. The third letter of Nicholas in this class (ep. 102 in our collection) is written to the supreme Caliph of the Saracens, who, having heard a false rumor that an oratory of the Saracens in Constantinople had been razed, and that some of his people had been compelled to abandon Islam, and being eager to avenge the injury, had issued edicts that Christian churches within the Saracen empire should be torn down; while meanwhile the Saracens were cruelly treating Christian captives, such that even those condemned to death were not executed by beheading, but were slaughtered like cattle (O the times! O the customs!), or hung upon wood and killed in mockery by a shower of stones or arrows. Nicholas therefore denies that any Mahometan temple was destroyed among the Greeks, and that any man was made a Christian by force; finally, he proclaims the clemency of the Christian emperors and their perpetual gentleness towards Saracen captives. With these and other words of this kind, he strives to soften the Caliph’s mind.

Class the second. V. There follow twenty-six long letters to Simeon, prince of the Bulgarians, which is the more noble part of this collection, in which Nicholas pours out all his powers of Greek eloquence, pastoral care, ecclesiastical authority, exceptional zeal, and Christian charity. Simeon, prince of the Bulgarians, succeeded his father Michael, who before his baptism had been Bogaris, and to whom Photius wrote that famous letter, or rather that royal and Christian instruction, which exists in books. Allatius (in *Famil. Sclav. Turc.*, Paris ed., p. 311) falsely calls Simeon’s father Vladimir, with whom the Maurists (*Art de vérifier les dates*) hesitantly agree. But now, letter 25 of Nicholas does not allow one to doubt that Simeon’s father was Bogaris, that is, Michael the First, in which Simeon is called the second Christian prince of the Bulgarians, and an eminent prosopopoeia is made of his parent, who is called the founder of the Christian religion among the Bulgarians. It is, moreover, very well known that Bogaris, or Michael, was the first prince among them to be washed by baptism. Those, therefore, whom Allatius and the Maurists interpose between Bogaris and Prince Simeon—namely, Presiamus and Michael Vorizes—receive no mention or consideration from Nicholas: the cause of which, although it might be manifold, I do not wish at present to investigate, lest I err too far from my purpose. In the first years of the boy Constantine, when he was reigning with Romanus Lecapenus, and when Nicholas, as the royal boy’s principal tutor, was largely administering the palace and public affairs, Simeon the Bulgarian was already waging a second war against the empire, contrary to the peace treaty long ago entered into with Leo, indulging in pillage, slaughter, sacrilege, and devastation, evils which the patriarch describes widely and deplores most greatly, because the Bulgarians, having received baptism from the Greeks not so long before (ep. 25, 26, 28), were persecuting their own parents and the authors of their faith in a war as if parricidal, and Christian blood poured out in turn was being offered to envious demons. The causes of the war were various (ep. 9 init., 11, 12), but the ambition of Simeon was paramount, who, despising the boyhood of Constantine, was aspiring to the empire (ep. 18, 20, 21, 25, 27); furthermore, Simeon was angry at Romanus Lecapenus, who had made himself emperor from being a tutor. When, therefore, the forces of the Bulgarians were beating against the very walls of Constantinople, Nicholas, consulting for his royal ward, the empire, and the Church, moved every stone: writing so many letters, to which Simeon responded not once (ep. 9, 10, 21, 22, 25, 27), frequently sending legates, offering useful conditions—such as marriages with the family of the lord Romanus, money, a great quantity of garments, even some portion of territory—ecclesiastical penalty, namely excommunication, repeatedly threatened (ep. 9 fin., 22), and finally with prayers, tears, and every kind of emotion and argument set forth, he himself [Nicholas] at last approached [Simeon] as a legate (ep. 27, 30), so that he might [soften] Simeon’s mind

[and induce the prince], who was otherwise possessed of great gifts (4, 31), to cease from his assault; ^A which thing he finally obtained: for we know indeed that Simeon, abandoning the war at the very end, withdrew from the heart of the empire where he was stationed, and returned to his own Bulgaria. Nicholas certainly uses great freedom of speech in these epistles, yet not without Christian humility: for thus he openly warns Simeon: "I am your father, whether you wish it or not, although I am the least of bishops, who certainly have not denied the religion of God: for even if by chance there are sinful bishops, they are not on that account your judges; but on the contrary, the bishops will judge you, if indeed you are Christ’s sheep, and not wandering from his flock." Nor are other items of information lacking in these letters, such as about various Byzantine tyrants, ^B about Chosroes the Persian, about Baga the praetor of Cherson, about Gaina the Goth and Chrysostom, a monk of Mount Olympus who at that time preached Christ to the Avars, about the destruction of the Avars, about the Pechenegs, about Leo Tripolites, the famous destroyer of Thessalonica (epist. 23, end), and subsequently conquered at Lemnos.

But epistle 28 seems worthy of special mention, in which there is a discussion concerning the Roman legates, Theophylact and Carus, proceeding to the Byzantine court and to Simeon with letters from the Roman pontiff (who was John X); in which letters the pontiff threatened the Bulgar with the chain of anathema reserved for himself, and warned too, as is done in still current constitutions, of the indignation of the apostles Peter and Paul, unless he desisted from his impious arms. On which account Nicholas again entreats Simeon, that if he does not revere him [Nicholas], he should at least revere the most holy pope (whom he calls thus by antonomasia here and in ep. 75). We believe, moreover, that no epistle of Nicholas to the Bulgar is missing; ^C since he himself admits (in our edition) that the thirty-first is the last one written by him, besides the fact that after it the end of the epistles to the Bulgar is read in the codex. Nevertheless, Nicholas wrote about the Bulgarian affair not to Simeon alone, but also to his chief administrator (ep. 13), asking him to urge peace upon his lord: and likewise two (ep. 4 and 12) to the Archbishop of Bulgaria. I scarcely doubt that this is Simeon of Debeltos, who had taken part in the Photian synod of the year 879 (see Coleti, *Illyr. sacr.* t. VIII, p. 207). In the first of these he speaks of a man who had fled to the sacred asylum among the Greeks (compare Photius, ep. 4), whom Nicholas hands back to the Bulgarian who was demanding him, but with a strict command that he be unpunished and unharmed. The other epistle is persuasive, namely, that the archbishop should use every means to contend with Simeon so as to put an end to this most troublesome war: an epistle truly worthy of reading, on account of its grave sentiments regarding ecclesiastical office and its pronouncement on the holy Eucharist; for he laments the churches polluted by war, "in which there resides the holy and immaculate body and blood of the Lord, which whosoever eats and drinks, obtains a sure hope of his own sanctification."

Third Class

VI. First there occurs a very luminous letter (32), like a treatise, which Nicholas writes to the Roman Church, either under Pope Lando, as Baronius thinks, or under Anastasius III, as Pagi judges, but certainly after the death of Sergius III, who is named as "blessed" both here and in ep. 53, nor does he write anything injurious about Sergius, although he himself had granted a dispensation for the fourth marriage to Leo. ^D The purpose of the epistle is a remonstrance, not otherwise unjust, against the Roman Church, which had even favored the emperor by sending legates in the matter of the marriage: from which it had resulted that Nicholas himself, defender of the contrary discipline, had been driven from his see and Euthymius substituted in his place. Nicholas says much for his own opinion, and relies specifically upon the canons commonly called "Apostolic" and the Constitutions of Clement, which writings we now know, as Baronius already noted, to be apocryphal; yet the Greeks discarded that opinion only later; for even Photius in his *Amphilochian* questions does not yet doubt them. This is a curious and significant epistle, both for its clear narration of the affair and for the knowledge of ecclesiastical discipline. For almost the entire Oriental Church forbids fourth marriages. Behold, even the patriarch of the Armenians, Sion, forbids not only fourth but even third marriages by canon XIII (in our *Script. vet.* t. X, part II, p. 308). And Severus, the Syrian Patriarch of Antioch, disapproves of third marriages in his first sermon on St. Drosis (also in our op. cit. t. X, p. 753). Finally, Abulpharagius, Maphrian or primate of the Jacobite Church, in the *Nomocanon* edited by us (*Script. vet.* t. X, part I, p. 64), retains the severe statutes of the Greeks concerning third and fourth marriages. And indeed, Nicholas at first contended that, not even by indulgence were fourth marriages to be granted to the emperor; but then, in other letters to the pope and the Latins, he came finally to the position that, for particular reasons, indulgence should have been granted to Leo, but never to others. Finally, this controversy in the Greek Church under Leo's son Constantine was ended in the synod *περὶ ἑνώσεως*, "concerning union," which was convened to reconcile the schism among the Greeks themselves, of which one part favored the Roman view, another the Greek. For by a solemn constitution, both ecclesiastical and civil, fourth marriages were forbidden, as may be seen in Leunclavius, *Jure Gr.-Rom.* t. I, p. 103. Nevertheless, the Roman Church, obeying the word of the Apostle Paul (I Cor. vii, 39: "A woman is bound by the law as long as her husband lives; but if her husband sleeps, she is free, let her marry whom she will"), judged that this freedom, clearly granted by the Apostle, was to be restricted by no limit. Moreover, this controversy, as everyone acknowledges, is entirely disciplinary, not dogmatic. Nor is Nicholas’s complaint about Leo’s appeal to the pope and the intervention of the Romans in this matter justified; since he himself acknowledges the primacy of the Roman Church, as is fitting, *προνόμιον ἐκκλησιαστικῆς ὑπεροχῆς* (the prerogative of ecclesiastical pre-eminence). That Nicholas finally dares to label fourth marriages *πορνείαν*, "fornication," or something worse, together with some of the ancients, I understand as nothing other than an impediment, as they say, *dirimens*, which, being interposed by ecclesiastical authority, renders the marriage [...] null, as long as

holds; and therefore their use does not differ from the stain of impurity. As for the history of the double marriage of the Emperor Valentinian, which Nicholas touches upon, confident in the account of Socrates, Book IV, Chapter 31, I shall say nothing after what Tillemont has argued with his customary great wisdom in Note 28 on the deeds of the aforementioned Caesar. In the two remaining letters (53 and 56) to Pope John, Nicholas urges this same matter, yet he declares that he desires the concord of the Churches: which he also says in letters 54 and 55 written to the Romans; and he judges that the name of the Pope, having been removed in the discord, should be restored to the diptychs; and again, he winks at past indulgence, but firmly maintains his own discipline for the future. Letter 77 is also written without doubt to the Pope, either Lando or, more likely, John X. It deals with peace with the Roman Church, which Nicholas, after his return from exile and the settling of his clergy's schism, desires to restore entirely so that it may be, as he says, as it was from the beginning, so also now, a bond of peace and a union of the Roman Church with the Constantinopolitan. ^A Scholars will note that it was also useful in the first letter to the Roman Church that a certain daughter of Leo had been betrothed to a Frankish prince. In truth, this was indeed Anna, whom Leo had fathered by his second wife, and whom, after her mother’s death, he declared Augusta while she was an adult, so that she might preside at palace banquets, as testified by Leo Grammaticus in the *Life of Leo the Wise*, Paris edition, p. 481.

*Fourth Class.* ^B VII. The first letter of this class (86 in our collection) commends an administrator of the Church to the Emperor, whom I understand to be Romanus Lecapenus, for Constantine was a boy. In another letter (55) sent to the Emperor Romanus, he warns about the Bulgarians having advanced as far as Lampsacus. Then he makes certain suggestions about the clerks of the chancery, the proper promotion of officials, and justice: in which passage I do not define what the word *ῥωγαί* signifies, but from Lennep’s *Etymologicum Graecum* one might conjecture that it refers to petitions or the tax for them. The third letter (156) is a consolation to the same Emperor Romanus on the death of his wife, the Empress Theodora, in the year 922. He uses the examples of Aemilius Paullus and Anaxagoras, who bore the loss of their children with fortitude. There are three beautiful letters to George, Prince of the Abasgians, in the first of which he condoles with him on the death of his distinguished parent. In this same letter and others, he greatly praises George’s virtues and gives thanks for his great care for the conversion and baptism of the neighboring Alans, and strongly commends to him the Archbishop of Alania. Cedrenus (Paris edition, vol. II, pp. 718, 770) touches upon the deeds of this George, Prince of Abasgia, and of his son Pancratius. For the history and conversion of the Abasgians to Christ, see Zonaras, Book XV, 1, and subsequently Book XVI, 9 sqq., where George’s defeat under Basil II and the fortunes of his son Pancratius are variously narrated. ^C Regarding the letter (82) to Landulphus, I have this to say. Firstly, Constantine in his *Themata* clearly teaches what was designated at that time by the name Longobardia, namely the province around Naples and neighboring cities, which name it had obtained from its Longobard lords. It is further certain that Leo the Wise had occupied Beneventum by sending an army. Landulphus, however, had once been sent to Constantinople by his father Atenulphus, and eventually became the master of Beneventum. Let Viventius, *Hist. Neap.*, 2nd ed., vol. I, p. 49, be read, as well as Muratori, *Annal. Ital.*, for the years 891 and 909; and finally, *Art de vérifier les dates* on the princes of Beneventum. Moreover, Nicholas’s letter informs us that a certain patrician in Longobardia, Ursoleo, had been killed by Landulphus on behalf of the Emperor, and his camp occupied; Nicholas speaks of this matter also in his letter to the Bishop of Hydruntum; nay, his letter to Gaedo, the protospatharius, also refers to it. Nicholas indeed, although he strongly disapproves of the deed, nevertheless offers Landulphus hope of pardon, and even prospect of obtaining the prefecture of Longobardia, provided he remains faithful to the Emperor. Letter (85) to the clergy and notables of Longobardia is engaged in the same business: for Landulphus had exerted effort to have the clergy plead his case before the Byzantine court and request that he be made administrator of the region. Finally, regarding letter 145, we know that the city of Amalfi was, in those times, free from foreign domination, accustomed to be ruled by its own dukes, and had also rendered aid to the Greeks against the Italic Saracens. Now Nicholas works to redeem captive Christians from the servitude of the Barbarians through the aid of the Duke of Amalfi, and for this purpose, he also sends money. Nicholas calls the Duke of Amalfi his spiritual son.

VIII. The letter (139) of Nicholas to the supreme prince of the Armenians seems worthy of special notice for its ecclesiastical history. It is written to Sembat, son of Asutius Bagratunius, whom Samuel the Anian in his *Chronicle*—a work not unknown to us, which we appended in the year 1818 at Milan to that more famous *Chronicle* of Eusebius of Caesarea, translated by the renowned John Zohrab—mentions to have ruled over Armenia between the end of the ninth and the beginning of the tenth century. We published that same *Chronicle* there from a genuine and authentic codex of the Haican [Armenian] language, which the aforementioned Zohrab himself had brought from Constantinople to Venice and had transcribed into his own exemplar through a most faithful collation. There is a threefold partition of the letter, as it were: for in the first part, Nicholas proclaims the necessity of right dogma (εὐσεβείας), from which some (he means the Armenians) had fallen away through the fault of their ancestors, yet clung stubbornly to ancestral tradition: which thing he rightly says is alien to all duty and prudence. In the second section of the letter, he narrates that upon the recent death of the patriarch among the Armenians, or as they are commonly called, the Catholicos (who had been Mastosius), the Armenian prince had signified through his apocrisiarii to the Byzantine Caesar (who was Leo the Philosopher) and also to the Greek Church, that he was asking to send to Constantinople the man whom he intended to designate as the new patriarch, so that he might receive consecration there and engage in religious discussions with the Greek clergy. Nicholas greatly approves this intention of the prince, and urges that it be put into effect without delay: and this for the salvation

of the Armenians, because they had wandered from the path of orthodox doctrine. In the same place he also mentions the embassy of his predecessor Photius and his letter to Zacharias, the patriarch of the Armenians, for the sake of concord and a return to orthodoxy, though he says that this attempt had proved fruitless due to the vicissitudes of the times. Finally, in the latter part, Nicholas discourses upon the aforementioned matter, greatly desiring and urging that the prelate to be elected should be imbued with the sincere doctrine of the Church at Constantinople, so that, having returned to his homeland, he might join the Armenian people to the Greeks, no less in religion than in civil peace. Thus far the letter of Nicholas.

However, the matter turned out quite differently: for the patriarch elected at this time was John VI, surnamed "the Historian," who assumed that see in the year 897. He, however, was so far from agreeing to a concord of dogmas that he openly professed himself in his *History* to be an enemy of the Council of Chalcedon; and he says that although he was frequently invited to Constantinople by the Emperor Constantine through the legate Theodosius, he never went there, lest he provide his schismatic nation with any suspicion of peace established or to be entered into with the followers of the Council of Chalcedon.

Classis quinta.

IX. When shall we possess a complete list of the bishops of the entire Christian world? Le Quien, indeed, attempted to enumerate the names of the Orientals in *Oriens Christianus*; but that work exceeded the strengths of one man. Nevertheless, Cardinal Garampius, while he was in charge of the Vatican archives, attempted with even greater daring a work entitled *Orbis Christianus*, with an infinite mass of bishops; yet this labor also lies in a heap of countless unpublished papers. But for those regions which have had their own unique writers on their bishoprics, we easily obtain their bishops, even if not yet all of them. As for other regions, which are the most numerous, we know their bishops nowhere better than in the apparatus to the councils by Labbe, in whom a general as well as a geographical catalog is read of the bishops who are named in the councils collected by him. But how imperfect this number is also is recognized daily, first because it relies only on the councils, and second because the councils themselves are not all known, neither then nor now: for we ourselves have recently published two [councils] unknown to Labbe, with the subscriptions of many bishops. Why do we say these things? Surely to commend the fifth class of the letters of Nicholas by this title at least, that it recites the names of the bishops of the Byzantine patriarchate, some perhaps unheard of, others confirmed by a new document. For we can hardly speak of the arguments of the individual letters for the sake of brevity. Since we have already spoken of the Archbishop of Bulgaria back above, we shall proceed with the rest in alphabetical order, and if we have drawn any knowledge of them from Labbe or elsewhere, we shall not withhold it. Ep. 53, 118, 133, 134, 135: the archbishopric of Alania is in the *Taktikon* of Leo the Wise in Leunclavius, vol. I, p. 88. I am acquainted with no contemptible Greek writings of another, more recent Archbishop of Alania, which I shall later reveal to the literary world. Ep. 65, John of Amisos. Ep. 113, Nicetas of Athens, who attended the Council of Constantinople in the year 870. His successor, Sabas, who attended the pseudo-synod of Photius in the year 879, is also mentioned. Ep. 115, Euthymius, Metropolitan of Antioch; understand it as Antioch in Pisidia, which was truly a metropolis, see Labbe's index of geography. Ep. 114, 128, Basil of Chaldia; there seems to be a mistake in the Council of Constantinople of the year 870, where "Basil of Chalcedon" is written, perhaps for "Basil of Chaldia." Moreover, Chaldia was one of the administrative themes of the empire in the Pontic region. Ep. 106, the Archbishop of Cherson appears to be the Paul who signed the pseudo-synod of Photius in the year 879 with this title. Ep. 157, Demetrius of Cyzicus. Ep. 50, 107, 130, 137, 138, Ignatius, Metropolitan of Cyzicus. Ep. 93, 113, Theoctistus of Claudiopolis. Ep. 39, 41, 42, 48, 89, 94, 124, 132, 151, 154, 160, Gregory, Metropolitan of Ephesus, is written in *Oriens Christianus*, vol. 1, p. 685, and in Labbe. He attended the pseudo-synod of Photius. Ep. 152, Photius of Heraclea. Ep. 58, anonymous [Bishop] of Iconium. Indeed, Palladius is named of Iconium in the letter of Emperor Leo in Labbe, vol. IV, p. 1836. Stylianus and Theophylactus [were] of Iconium in the Council of Constantinople in the year 870. Theophilus [was] of Iconium in the pseudo-synod of Photius. Ep. 83, anonymous [Bishop] of Hydruntum; it seems to be Mark of Hydruntum, who was in the pseudo-synod of Photius. Ep. 104, 158, Constantine, Metropolitan of Laodicea. Ep. 116, Philip of Larissa. Ep. 49, [concerns] metropolitans placed outside of communion, specifically on account of the schism in the cause of the tetragamy; by whom it is complained that they were abandoned, the father by the sons. Ep. 71, 100, Alexander of Nicaea, in *Oriens Christianus*, vol. I, p. 648. Ep. 96, 97, Ignatius of Nicomedia. Ep. 43, 119, 125, Andrew, Metropolitan of Patrae. Ep. 108, 110, Eustratius of Pissimuntis in the pseudo-synod of Photius. Ep. 149, Anthony, Metropolitan of Sardis. Ep. 57, anonymous [Bishop] of Synnada. Peter of Synnada [was] at the Council of Constantinople of the year 870. Nicholas of Synnada [was] in the pseudo-synod of Photius of the year 879. It is to be believed that Patriarch Nicholas is writing to this one. Ep. 117, 129, Leo of Syla. Ep. 122, Bishop Ambrose. Ep. 98, anonymous bishop.

In the letters of this fifth class, matters of church governance are discussed, [as is] the schism caused by the tetragamy, [and] various persons or affairs from that time, [and] the calamities of the same period. In Ep. 94, the right of ecclesiastical immunity is touched upon. Finally, some letters are familiar and official. Indeed, some of the anonymous letters are undoubtedly written to bishops.

Classis sexta.

X. The letters of this class are written to civil magistrates. I shall write hardly any information about these, because a long discussion would be required regarding their persons, while the titles of their offices are known from the books on the dignities of the Byzantine court; finally, most of the prefectures are described in the book of the Emperor Constantine, *De*

^A *De*.

Therefore, epistle 146 is written to Constantine, the *protasecretis*. Ep. 91, to Coropos, an illustrious man. Ep. 69, 70, to David Camulianus, *protospatharios*. Ep. 84, to Gaedon, an imperial *protospatharios*. Ep. 103, to Godinus, imperial *protospatharios* and governor. Ep. 121, to Leo, *patricius* and praetor of the Anatolics. Ep. 127, to Leo, *spatharios* and judge of Paphlagonia. Ep. 40, to Malacinus, *patricius*. Ep. 140, to Michael, *patricius* and praetor of Thessalonica. Ep. 144, to Nicholas, praetor of Lombardy. Ep. 150, to Philotheus, *patricius*. Ep. 54, to the praetor of Hellas. Ep. 161, to the praetor of the Peloponnese. Ep. 55, to the praetor of Strymon. Ep. 149, to the praetor of the Thracesians. Ep. 44, to a certain praetor. The more noteworthy points in the aforesaid epistles are generally these: in 34, the discourse concerns a grave discord and schism of the Theban clergy. In 84, the tumult in Lombardy is mentioned. In 144, it is said that peace was restored to Lombardy by the praetor Nicholas. In 140, the patriarch demands the truth from the praetor under pain of anathema. In 146, he threatens the praetor with anathema because he rejected the archbishop of Naples whom he had designated, and forced another upon them. In 150, the patriarch admits the complaint of the Nicene clergy against their praetor, by whom they were being pressed into military service. He says further that Nicaea had been gifted with metropolitan status on account of the synods celebrated therein. In the remaining epistles, wise admonitions, commendations, and other matters are written, sometimes in a public and sometimes in a private capacity.

Classis septima

XI. The seventh class is the most copious of all. Ep. 47, to Constantine. Ep. 136, to the brothers Stephen, Michael, and Constantine. Ep. 36, to the *Curator* of Strongylizontis. That this ecclesiastical place was in the theme of Strymon appears from the preceding ep. 35, in which its *curator* is commended to the governor of Strymon. In Constantinople, indeed, there was a *Strongylon* fortress ^B and also a monastery, as can be seen in Banduri, *Imperium Orientale*, vol. II, p. 759. Ep. 57, to Stylianus the deacon. Ep. 60, to the *oikonomos* of the Great Church of Constantinople. These are written to monks: Epp. 33, 64, 120, 131, to Tryphon. Ep. 28, to Philetus. Ep. 45, to Arsenius. Ep. 62, to Peter. Ep. 63, to Epiphanius. Ep. 126, 143, to Ignatius, formerly *magister*, later a monk. Ep. 144, to an unnamed *hegumenos* at the Altars of the Sun. Ep. 148, to Euthymius. Ep. 153, to Theodosius, a monk and *cubicularius*. Ep. 163, to Antiochus. Ep. 78, to the monks generally. Finally, to unnamed persons: epp. 59, 61, 66, 67, 68, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 79, 80, 81, 87, 88, 90, 92, 101, 105, 109, 111, 125, 147, 152, 155, 159. *Adelon*, that is, "uncertain," I have inscribed when no name was present in the codex; and sometimes it seemed that for *adelon* one should put *to auto*, "the same," referring relatively to the inscription of the preceding epistle; sometimes, however, it is different. I shall not go through the subject matter of all these epistles individually, although in ep. 66 certain superstitious acts are rebuked which were performed by Christians through burning pyres and through the immolation of animals in a manner close to paganism; which rite was also rebuked among the Armenians; cf. Spicil. ^C

XII. Another thing I discovered in the Vatican codices is an unpublished writing of Nicholas Mysticus, namely his homily to the Byzantine people after he heard the most sad news of the destruction of Thessalonica, a dire calamity which occurred in the year of Christ 904 (which was the ninth year of the pontificate of Nicholas) under the apostate leader Leo Tripolita the Saracen. This homily survives in Vat. codex 172, together with the history of John Cameniates about the aforesaid fall of Thessalonica, and also John the Reader’s history—as well as his monody—on the final capture of that same city by the Turks. That the writings of both Johns were edited by Leo Allatius in *Symmicta* from this same codex is made certain because of the lacunae left in the edition of the second work, the cause of which was that the codex itself is torn in the upper part, as became evident to me upon consulting it. However, because Nicholas's homily is almost entirely devoted to moving the people to a detestation of their sins, on account of which Thessalonica had fallen and Constantinople herself feared a like punishment, it therefore has little that is historical; and because the codex, as I said, breaks the series of the speech, I shall here recite only a slender fragment which touches more closely upon the history. ^D The title of the homily is this: *Homily of Patriarch Nicholas on the capture of Thessalonica, spoken in the ambo of the Great Church after the introit. Shortly before, I told you, beloved, etc.* Patriarch Nicholas’s homily on the captured Thessalonica, spoken in the pulpit of the Great Church after the introit. *A short time ago we spoke to you, dearest, etc.* But regarding the middle of the oration, it goes thus: "Now pure wrath has been poured out upon us, and there is no one who speaks out, no one who restrains it. Cities have been emptied of their inhabitants, men have been slaughtered like cattle, women dragged violently from their husbands—a piteous sight—they are set before the most wanton men to be abused. Who will give to my eyes fountains of tears, and I will weep for these things and those more piteous than these? Virgins consecrated [to the heavenly Bridegroom] have been defiled, dragged off for abuse; the altars of God have been defiled by the impurity of the unclean, and the sword and slavery divide the monks and priests. Woe is me for my evils, the heaviest of all! The much-suffering relics of the saints are mocked by the profane and desecrated, and even after death they endure second struggles. Where are you, Demetrius the martyr, our unconquered ally? How did you overlook your city being sacked? How is it that your city, which since the time the sun first beheld it, had been inaccessible to enemies, experienced such evils under you, its patron? How did you endure the haughtiness of the impious as the sacred protection was being destroyed? How did you suffer these things and hold out? etc." Now immense wrath falls upon us, and there is no one who dares to resist. The cities are empty of citizens, men butchered like beasts, women dragged from their husbands by force, a miserable sight! They are set out to be violated by the most impure enemies. Who will provide my eyes with fountains of tears, that I may deplore these and worse evils? Virgins dedicated to the heavenly Spouse have been dishonored and dragged into ignominy; the altars of God have been polluted by the filth of the impure: monks and priests, partly consumed by the sword, partly in

servitude abducted. Alas, the heaviest of my afflictions! The relics of the saints, having endured so many torments long ago, are now vexed by the mockery and insults of the profane, and sustain a second punishment after death. Where, Demetrius, martyr, is your invincible aid? Why have you permitted the destruction of your city? How has the city, which from the moment it is beheld, is through your protection impregnable, been seized by so grave an evil? Why have you tolerated the pride of the impious insulting your guardianship? Why, I say, have you allowed these things to happen? etc.

THE EPISTLES OF NICHOLAS, ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE

I. To the most illustrious and most renowned and beloved Emir of Crete.

All earthly power and every principality, my friend, depends upon the supernal principality and power; nor is there any power among men, nor does any powerful man obtain power on earth by his own cleverness, unless He who reigns in the highest, the only powerful one, has granted the authority. For this reason, it is fitting, if possible, that all who have obtained authority among men—even if there were no other reason at all to allow for mutual communion—should for this very reason, inasmuch as we have received the gift of power from one and the same source, not allow a day to pass without communicating through letters and through envoys experienced in affairs; and this is especially true for those who handle greater magistracies, by whom ^A they are honored all the more, and are as it were brothers set above other brothers and chosen, and entrusted with the administration of the greatest authorities and powers. What, then, does our statement mean? That two lordships of all lordships on earth, that of the Saracens and that of the Romans, stand supreme and shine forth, just like the two great lights in the firmament. And it is precisely for this reason that we ought to behave in a communal and brotherly way, and not, because we differ in customs, life, and worship, that we should be estranged from one another, nor ought we to deprive ourselves of the commerce of letters ^B if no other opportunity is given; for this is how we ought to think and act, even if no necessity of affairs were to prompt us to do so.

EPISTOLÆ

^A Now, however, concerning the reasonable cause for which we have spoken, and the events that have occurred, such that we are persuaded they do not please your magnificence, and which impelled us to write and to send the embassy which had already been dispatched to your God-given authority. But before the narrative of events, we say this: that there are many things in which one who is placed in authority should be diligent to excel, unless he seeks to show himself unworthy of his office; for otherwise, far from offering himself to his subjects as a pattern of a life ordered toward virtue, and showing his own rule to be sweet and admirable and creating a desire for it among them, he will instead provoke and incite them to hatred and injury. ^B The pinnacle of a ruler’s virtue, so to speak, and the sum of his achievements, is justice; through it he is clothed with strength, governs his realm securely, and prevents the enemy from easily resisting. For while all other things in a ruler’s life that tend toward virtue adorn him and beautify him like certain flowers, they do not greatly benefit his subjects unless there is in them a happy desire to imitate and emulate their ruler’s virtue; but justice, being a common salvation, makes the ruler more powerful and provides subjects with security.

Since these things have been said, let us now speak of the causes for which we have engaged in this discourse. ^C The island of Cyprus, O most glorious leader of the Saracens, ever since the time that peace treaties were made with them, has been subject to your authority, and until the present time has lived in the security of those covenants; none of your ancestors, as many as were allotted the rule over the Saracen nation, either dissolved the agreements or put them to any evil test. Rather, the heirs of the power in their time, thinking well and justly, honored and preserved the things that had pleased their fathers and were guaranteed by the confirmation of documents, introducing nothing new, nor thinking or acting otherwise than the intent of their predecessors. But now, what shall we say? Although it was right that, in proportion to the time that has passed and the antiquity with which the agreements have held, one should be so scrupulous regarding their annulment; yet, everything has been destroyed and trampled underfoot—the counsels, that is, of your fathers, and the writings inscribed by their own hands, and the treaties and oaths which the Saracens at that time gave to the Cypriots, pledging their faith to them. ^D And instead of peace, instead of treaties, instead of oaths, swords and wars and slaughters have been brought upon the wretched Cypriots; toward whom it was fitting, if anyone else were doing these things to them, to receive help from the Saracens. For this is a common law among all who possess cities or nations as tributaries: to go against those who attack them and incite war, and to ward off the aggression, as having their tributaries as their own kin. But this, which is a right existing among all nations even among those who do not know the law, has been violated by the Saracen

^A law-abiding ones, and an island that, for nearly three hundred years since it became tributary to you, has never been seen to change the order of its subjects, nor to have introduced any innovation regarding the tributes, nor regarding any other service that ought to be rendered to the Saracens, nor has it in any way provided cause for accusation, has been laid waste and destroyed by the sole madness of a man who both denied the faith of the Christians and corrupted the worship of the Saracens. And its inhabitants have been, some the work of the sword, others rendered fugitives, having only this crime: that for such a long time they were submissively subject to you, and were never seen to have failed in any of their duties toward your care, even though you have frequently borne down upon them heavily and contrary to the common laws of your treaties.

Although even if, as is human, they happened to stumble and thought something contrary to your judgment, it was still not right to attack them with arms or to rush immediately into slaughter and wounds. This is unworthy not only of Saracens, but of any other people who know and maintain human administration and conduct. Rather, one should first reproach the offense, demonstrate that the way of acting is unjust, warn them to repent and not fall away from what is right—and not once, but twice and more. And if they remained unrepentant, and instead of learning what is good, persisted in a worse inclination, then, having seized all divine and human vengeance ^B you might have tried to punish and suppress an insanity that had progressed to such a point. But nothing of the sort was done; rather, as I have said, you pursued innocent and faultless men, who have in no way violated the things sworn of old, just as if they were enemies.

Who, hearing such things, whether those who are now or those who will be in the future, will not condemn the authors of such deeds of great injustice? And how will your ancestors, who established treaties and confirmed oaths with the Cypriots, if there is any perception among the dead of the things that are sought after here, not groan mightily against you, and judge you guilty of every condemnation, as criminals not only against the island of the Cypriots but against themselves as well, and load you with all the curses of parricides? For if anyone, by rising up against his own father while still living, does not escape the stigma of parricide, will not the one who contradicts the will of a defunct father be a parricide ^C and liable to the same punishment? For what difference is there between these in respect to rebellion? Or rather, if anyone wishes to understand it properly, it is worse to rise up against a deceased father than a living one, inasmuch as greater honor is owed by children to those who have crossed over to the future life, along with reverent memory and the maintenance of their arrangements. For that man—by what name should I call him?—who does not love the Christians and holds the affairs of the Saracens in contempt (I speak of Damian), neither considering the present nor heeding the future, but driven by his own madness and irrational fury, commits an impious act ^D that will be remembered for all future ages.

^A obliterating, as far as it depended on him, a most populous island from the earth, and delivering its inhabitants to total destruction.

Yes, you say, but someone will tell you: "There was a cause that led to this, and moved by this cause, he did what seems impious; for Himerius, having captured Saracens on the island, did away with them, when by agreement they ought rather to have been saved by the Cypriots and restored to their own territory." Do you not consider, O man, you who reproach, the intent of the law of justice? Nor do you reflect on who ought to take upon himself the cause that you propose, or who should justly be angry? Let the crime you allege be just, and let the Cypriots pay the penalty for those Saracens who suffered harm—and I do not even say yet that it is not just, even then, for all to be punished ^B for the sin of Himerius and his companions, or to suffer all your wrath and bitterness. Nevertheless, let it be as I said, and let the Cypriots be punished because Himerius, while dwelling among them on the island, showed himself harsh toward the Saracens. But if Himerius is in no way to be associated with the Cypriots, why should those who are not guilty be endangered on his account, either by inheriting his accusation or by paying the penalty for what he has done? For he, having been a commander of the Roman army, wherever in the world he could subdue enemies, followed established custom. The Cypriots, however, consider you not as enemies, nor have they committed any terrible act, nor, again, are they able to rise up against Himerius and snatch the Saracens from his hands. For you cannot even say that they could have done this ^C and did not, or that they joined him and assisted in the infliction of evil upon the Saracens.

Why, therefore, do you wage war against the Cypriots for this, and pour out your wrath upon them? Why, instead of being eager to repay the one who caused you grief for what he did, do you repay those who have done no harm with the results of your pain? Or is it because Himerius invaded your territory and, after warring against some of the towns of Syria, conquered them, that the Cypriots must be subject to punishments for these things, and that you will reasonably find it just to be indignant against them, and will set in motion weapons, and instead of fighting against Himerius, will organize war against them? But it did not seem so to your fathers, nor to their successors right down to you. Why? Because the Cypriots are on the border of the ^D Roman and Saracen powers, and they neither raise their hands against you nor against the Romans, but are equally subject to the servitude of both yours and ours, or rather, even more so to yours. Therefore, just as it is unjust and inhumane to wage war on the Cypriots because Himerius campaigned against your territory, so it is unlawful and worthy of every condemnation to wage war on the Cypriots because it happened that some of the Saracens fell into the hands of Himerius on the island. But you seem to me to be one who, as the matter proceeds, will also wage war against the Christians living in Syria, because the Christians are fighting against you. If, however, you were to act in this whole

^A way, it would exceed all homicide, nor would the case of the Cypriots be free from the same homicide. But let us leave aside what we say to demonstrate the illegality of this war. Consider also divine vengeance, for you are most prudent and capable of understanding divine judgments: reflect, I beseech you, upon the wrath from heaven that fell upon the most lawless Damian for his deeds. For if his own disappearance from among men teaches this, the sickness, too, which seized him from the time he stained the land of the Cypriots with unjust slaughter, and which consumed him little by little, is a witness to the just punishment brought by God for his transgressions. If you wish, consider also what happened to your fleet at sea, and the destruction of your ships in the very sight of the island which that wicked man purposed to destroy. I know well that you understand and grasp these things without our words; yet, because nothing prevented them from being mentioned by us, we have stated such things. It remains now that your divine power should not only understand, but also correct the evil already done, and restore to the wretched Cypriots the rights originally granted to them by your fathers, and leave them in peace and security, established in the ancient form of peace, paying the tribute as they served the Saracens formerly and still do, while being free from all the oppression and violence which that fierce and cruel Damian inflicted upon them yesterday and the day before ^B; so that you may not appear to be spurning the well-regarded counsels and agreements of your fathers, nor trade the honor and glory that befit you for justice, only to shift over to the contrary.

II. To the same.

Of all the good things that life brings to men, and through which human life acquires what is sweet, there is nothing so good, nor more pleasant to those adorned with wisdom, than the acquisition of friendship and the pursuit of it. Hence, some have made it their concern to lay a foundation and plant friendship with those with whom they did not previously have familiarity; but others, with friendship that had long existed but had subsequently ^C grown weak through the length of time, strive to make it revive and move again, restoring it by their own efforts to its ancient form, being discreet and perceiving with most perfect wisdom the nature of the matter, namely, that of all things in life, the pleasure of friendship is more precious and more delightful. I preface these words not as though your nobility were ignorant of this, but as one who speaks to one who knows, and as I myself know, and as a kind of mutual conversation about resuming the work of friendship between us—which we are not merely starting now, but rather are seeking as a paternal ^D inheritance, and, as I said before, we are eager to make it revive, as I know not how it has come to be endangered of dissolving through the length of time. For it does not escape your understanding that among the greatest of God's high priests, the venerable Photius

^A in the Holy Spirit was so joined to the father of your nobleness by the bond of affection, that no one else of the same opinion and race was so lovingly disposed toward you. For being a man of God, and knowledgeable in both divine and human matters, he knew that even if the dividing wall of religious observance stood between them, yet that which belongs to prudence, to keenness of mind, to the steadiness of character, to philanthropy, and the rest that adorns and ennobles human nature, kindles desire in those who love good things for those in whom the beloved qualities exist. Therefore, even he loved your father, adorned as I said with these things, even if in between them the difference of faith stood. We were not moved toward this intention just now, but we were moved long ago and formerly, and we held it in great esteem. But this thing that I previously spoke of, the seeking of our paternal friendship, a situation has now presented itself confirming our purpose, which truly ought to have been the beginning of such a matter; and it is, as you see, sympathy toward one's own kind, philanthropy, mercy, gentleness. And what else is this but an imitation of the goodness of God Himself? Who, through much kindness and infinite mercy, brought into being those who were not, and, as a father, spreading his care over those who came into being from clay, he looks after their inmost parts, sustains their life, and provides all things by which human nature maintains its existence. ^B Such is this present situation, bringing in itself the enjoyment of these things I have mentioned; for the freedom of the captives, the recalling from captivity, the redemption from slavery, the return of the captives to their own people, or to their kinsmen, or to their friends—these things possess the sweet participation of life.

Letter II

But since we have said these things already, and as friends and as those who care for the glory of a friend, we bring in our counsel and exhortation toward the philanthropic work of the captives' freedom, and we are eager to make you, who are already inclined toward this, still more ready, so that in your days such philanthropy may have been shown toward the captives, that you yourself might have imperishable glory, and we, as friends of the one who is loved, might share in the glory. There are many, my best of friends, circumstances of life which constrain and press men and produce heavy sorrows; but not one is comparable to captivity, but whatever anyone might mention, whether poverty, or sickness, or the maiming of limbs, all are found to be more bearable compared to that affliction and misery. For what is more painful than the separation of parents from children, the severing of spouses, the alienation of brothers? And I do not even mention how many other things beset the captives, which your nobleness and all who possess understanding know together. Therefore, calling to mind the common sufferings of those who share your faith and of those of our own faith, do not wish to appear difficult toward the completion of the saving matter, nor to put forward certain pretexts that bring difficulty ^C against the deliverance of the captives of your own people and of ours, ^D but rather show yourself a follower of justice and an observer of equity, and not one who is studious of his own profit, [leaving aside] the Christians' cont in the common life of the race, the joining of friendship, the delights of commerce.

for injustice is no profit, nor does greed know how to benefit, but rather it is the ultimate harm and an innovation for those who, like you, are capable of discerning what is proper. This is the greatest benefit, this is incalculable profit: that under your rule and administration, your own countrymen may be restored to their native land, that children may be received by their parents, that those born may be reunited with their fathers, that husbands be given back to their wives, that friends may enjoy the company of their friends, and, in a word, that those who until now have lived in exile from their fatherland may enjoy all the blessings which the fatherland bestows. ^B These are the things, best of my friends, which I wish to be the beginning of our friendship, and these are what I write and exhort, since it is fitting for you to do such things, and for us to write of such things to one who is loved. As for the rest, we pray that you may fare well and remain secure from every vicissitude and necessity which is accustomed to accompany this mortal life, which turns upward and downward.

III. To the most excellent, most illustrious, spiritual son, Simeon, Prince of Bulgaria.

Perhaps we appear to do something superfluous, our son, in wishing to entreat you with such an entreaty, which lies stored up in your God-loving soul even without our words; for since it is the duty of every man to be sympathetic toward any offender, it is an especially indispensable obligation for those who have ascended to the height of authority to maintain this, since also the authority granted to rulers was given by God, the ruler of all, for no other reason than that they should appear to live in imitation of Him who honored them and raised them to the height of rule. ^C But since you are prudent and most wise, you know the philanthropy, the goodness, and the compassion of God; who, "as far as the east is from the west," removes our iniquities from us. And you know this also full well: that those who are truly worthy of the authority given to them by God, among the many things by which they can serve God, offer this most excellent service—philanthropy, as I have said, and absence of malice, and being unangered and compassionate toward their subjects. For they were not preferred over others in order to use their power for anger and the vexation of men, but in order that, with fatherly hearts, they might rectify the fault, even if one should happen to offend often. It suffices to have prefaced so much; we now set before you the case itself, ^D for which we entreat you.

A certain man—I do not know whether he was worthy to pay a penalty or whether he fell into calamity in the human way—because he feared your power, has fled to that temple of God which every Christian in the world confesses to be the eye of the universe, in which we, though useless, minister day and night; and he, while he inexorably invoked the holy propitiatorium of the temple, and not the [respect] owed by all Christians to the temples of God...

and the inviolability of those who take refuge in them, moved us. For what else ought we, though unworthy ministers of the holy altar, to do, than to prevent those who wished to drag him away? To disregard this, though they vexed us and spoke harshly to us on your account, nevertheless, since they promised and confirmed to us in every way that he would suffer nothing terrible, my child, but would be deemed worthy of your pardon and forgiveness for his offense, we brought him out of the temple and sent him forth, calling God to witness, and His all-holy propitiatorium, both in the present age and in the age to come, that He should not overlook him if he remained unavenged, if any painful or grievous thing—which may it not happen to you, my child, to perpetrate—should befall him. Do not, therefore, think that you are receiving him from the hand of those who come to you, but consider me to be present, I who dragged him from the divine temple and with my own hand delivered him to your hand. Observe, then, how you may honor the temple of God, and through this offer honor to Him, and draw down upon yourself His favor from above, and have our humility, through its sympathy for man, praying for your blessings and salvation, rather than crying out against the injury brought upon the divine temple, if—which may it not happen—the man should be subjected to punishment or penalty. ^B

Beyond these things, remember, my child, that you yourself are in need of divine kindness and philanthropy for your own offenses, which those who do not forgive their debtors cannot obtain. It is good, therefore, to offer to God, as a kind of payment, mercy toward man, so that you yourself may obtain divine mercy. And it is also worthy of your consideration that, for you, having become a philanthropist—or, which God forbid, turning to the contrary—the recompense will be manifold, whether of philanthropy or of punishment. For the sin you are committing, as you see, is not a simple one: the temple of God is insulted, and its high priest, however lowly, and the dogmas that guarantee inviolability to those who take refuge in this great sanctuary. But these things have been said to you by way of paternal exhortation. ^C It remains now, and all the more, to fortify what has been said with the bond of the Holy Spirit, and to secure you, my child, so that you might not suffer anything unworthy of your noble virtue, nor sin; and finally, in the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, from whom the power has been given to us, the humble, to bind for the salvation of the soul those who are in need of binding, we forbid you to inflict any chastisement or punishment upon the one who was taken from the holy house of God, nor to put him to the trial of any maltreatment, but let him be deemed worthy of pity and forgiveness, so that you might also find the Lord and Master of all, who is persuaded by your supplications, to be propitious, and not angry, ^D and rebuking you in those words full of threats, which that servant heard who, having received the forgiveness of many debts, had not been merciful toward his neighbor.

IV. To the most reverend and God-beloved, in the priesthood our brother, archbishop of Bulgaria.

Jam studiosus, I was already eager for the commerce that I had with your holiness by letter; but now, since the arrival of a pressing piece of business has moved me to write, indulging my own desire and compelled by the necessity of the matter, I write this letter to you. Yet it is necessary first to provide an exposition of the matter in part, namely that, having been deemed worthy to stand by the holy altar and to intercede for men, we who move on earth before the Lord who is in heaven (O fearful ^B and surpassing all speech, gift and munificence!) ought to consider with concentrated mind the order in which we are set. And since we ask for forgiveness for men for those things in which they have sinned against God, much more ought we to be zealous to dissolve the faults of men against one another, and to intercede with those in power against the punishments they often inflict, for we possess an incomparable boldness of speech to men, and a reasonable petition. For what could a man sinning against a man be, that is not seen to be far ^C less than those things committed daily against God, for which those who stand by the holy altar are established as advocates and mediators? Why have I said this? So that your God-beloved holiness, having been chosen to minister to the nation of the Bulgarians, may, with the boldness granted to you by the holy Spirit, instruct our prince—my beloved son, I mean—whenever in human fashion he is moved to anger against someone, by now paternally exhorting him, and now archpriest-like speaking boldly, to keep his indignation within bounds, or rather to overcome it with humanity, and to despise vengeance; seeing that he knows that for every man it is much better to grant forgiveness than to exact ^D punishments; but especially for those who have received princedom from God, whom mercy makes all the more glorious and admirable because, having the power to take revenge, they have preferred mercy to vengeance.

Having said these things, come, let us now reveal the reason for which we have written this letter. A man has taken refuge in our most holy Church who, as he says, is neither of the Bulgarian race, nor is he called the servant of any one in Bulgaria, yet he is sought after as a fugitive servant. Certain men, coming in favor of the prince established by God, wished to drag him from the temple after he had fled to it; to these men, who were behaving outrageously and attacking us harshly, we were unwilling to yield, nor did we grant permission to drag the suppliant from the temple, until, having been given assurance that he would suffer no evil from the prince, they took him from the most holy altar, while we frequently called God and the holy propitiatory to witness that, if any harm should befall him,

^A we would certainly not cease from interceding, as long as we live on earth, and even after our departure from this life, if a place of intercession before God should be granted to us, worthless though we are, to offer prayers to God against the violator of the holy altar and for his punishment. But the violator is perfectly manifest; for no other person would dare to inflict penalty and punishment—which may God avert from the man who was taken from the temple! For those who persuaded us to bring him out would not be violators, because they themselves did not inflict the punishments, but rather, out of a desire to show favor to the prince ordained by God, they exerted such zeal, and were worthy—as having granted this favor to a friend—to receive the favor of friendship in return, not to be seen as liable to condemnation on account of the punishment inflicted upon him by him, or to be deemed guilty for having deceived us, or for having sent the man who had taken refuge at the altar to him.

^B But I, if there be any intellectual transition and presence of the soul and communion of man with man, and as I write this to our venerable and virtue-loving son, say unto thee: my child, consider the man to be before thine own eyes, and think that it is by my hand that he was led out of the altar and delivered into thy hands. Let no one deceive thee nor mislead thee with arguments; neither regarding Him who dwells in the holy temple, who fills heaven and earth, nor regarding the useless priest of the temple, nor permit any evil against him who was led out of the holy temple and sent to thee. I bear witness to thee that the judgment of God will not sleep, but will demand a much heavier vengeance than that which thou thyself might impose upon the wretched man; and let not this be a hindrance to thy bishopric in speaking to him, that it is no great thing to kill or to punish. For this even a commoner can do; for robbers, pirates, and the myriad other kinds of evildoers, and if thou wilt, serpents, wolves, bears, and lions, and other wild beasts, are able to kill and harm human beings. But that is truly great: to appear as a benefactor, to correct a soul that has gone astray, or to heal one that is corrupted. This is the duty of anyone who knows that he is adorned with the image of God, and especially of those who, not only by creation but also by their rule over fellow servants, have been honored with greater distinction, and therefore ought more to reflect the likeness of the Creator. I would have much else to write, ^C but because thy archiepiscopal perfection is not incapable of suggesting to itself what is fitting, and because the weariness of a longer discourse must be avoided, we are content with what has been said, adding only this: May God grant that nothing happen contrary to our exhortation and hope, so that neither may my spiritual son, the prince ordained by God, become liable to eternal judgment, nor may those who were privy to his counsel and deeds become partakers in the condemnation.

V. To Symeon, Prince of Bulgaria.

What we write, my child, do not think is written in ink, but in our tears; for to this, as ^D those who were sharers in his counsel and the

^A iniquities have delivered us, so that we hear such reports concerning you, which will cause our letter to you to use tears as a contribution to its writing. Spare us, O Lord our God, and do not permit in the days of our humility and unworthiness that such things be wrought by the evil one, which will not cease for all time to make those who have rushed to do them blameworthy and shameful to the whole world. But until when does the word flee and delay to speak to you openly of that report, which is hateful to God and detestable to men? It has been announced to us that he who was prudent, most wise, most Christian, who greatly lamented that wicked expedition which thou didst wage against Christians, ^B now in turn art attempting to conceal that action with a worse and, to God, more hateful expedition, desiring to rouse thyself and in tyrannical fashion to advance against one who has done no wrong, against an infant and orphan who has not injured thee at all, and a child king, neither taking into consideration the meaning of tyranny, which is detestable before God and men. For who does not know that God hates tyranny, and that men throughout all time denounce tyrants as common plagues? But thou hast neither placed these things in thy mind, nor hast thou remembered the Father of orphans, who hates and detests the injustice wrought against any orphan whatsoever, and does not leave it unpunished, much less that against a king, whom He Himself, by the judgments with which He judged, placed as master and lord of the scepters of His own inheritance. But neither didst thou take into account the common covenants ^C which, from the time you came to baptism, mediated peace between the Romans and the Bulgarians; nor, again, those later ones which, as thou thyself didst make them, were fortified and strengthened by most holy oaths, which, having wrongly violated the former peace, you re-established. ^D What is this, my child? Where is my boasting concerning thee? Where are those noble things which that happy report, bringing such news to our ears concerning thee, made known—that thou art a ruler ordained by God, good, pious, just, hating evil, loving truth, waging war on fraud? And why should I not tell everyone how much that good and happy report made me rejoice, be delighted, and even glory on thy account, and give thanks to God and glorify the King and Lord of all, God, for having given such a man as head and king to the nation of the Bulgarians? Where now are those things for which, by night and by day, I was pouring out prayers for thee, rejoicing with joy, humble though I be and an unprofitable minister of the holy altar, that thy seed might never cease to rule over the nation of the Bulgarians, nor thy descendants lose the inheritance of thy noble gifts? Where are those beautiful and wondrous accounts? And whence these contrary things, these sad, to God and men hateful things, which force me to blush, which make my tears my bread? For who, to say nothing of one who loves thy virtue as I do—but any man who is fair-minded—could hear such things concerning thee and not be filled in his heart with sadness?

^A And not be cast down? Not be grieved? Not be wholly dissolved in tears? For what is more painful to men? What is more worthy to be mourned than that a man who was minded to pursue virtue, and had attained to an ever-memorable name, and had become a pattern both to those of his own time and to future generations of a godly manner of life and conduct, should suddenly fall, and be alienated, and accept a conversion to worse things? Woe is me for my calamities, for my misery, for my, as it seems, infinite sins! Alas for the spite of the man-slaying devil from the beginning, who is always hostile to the good and devises everything so as to drag men into every wickedness!

^B When daily I heard your magnanimous sentiments, my child, and that you had nothing else at heart but to preserve your rule blameless and undefiled, I considered the rumors of those who were even then reporting such things to be a delusion, and I judged them to be enemies of your virtue, spreading such tales in order to render you blameworthy. And I said to many that there is never room for such an accusation against a ruler established by God. For I said that a man who is a lover of piety, a lover of truth, a cultivator of justice, and one who desires a good name and fame, cannot possibly covet tyranny. For the tyrant is not inflamed with that desire, unless, being utterly estranged from these things, he possesses a mind wounded by the contrary; ^C for every tyrant is also faithless, and a liar, and lawless, and unjust, and—which is the head of all wickedness—does not acknowledge the providence of God, nor does he esteem that human affairs are ruled and power and authority distributed to men by His judgment and nod, but he trusts only in his own madness, atheism, and folly.

I used to say to those who slandered you, saying that you desired tyranny: "O men, may your lying lips be silenced, those that speak against my God-beloved child, against the most pious, against the most faithful, against the just, saying that he commits lawlessness and injustice." And this I asserted not simply, but adding these words: "The evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil; but the good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good." My child rejoices in goodness; for he is a lover of truth, and with all his might he pursues and drives out falsehood from his own people. And he is most faithful, for I hear that all who are subject to him stand in the faith in every way. ^D As to his being most just, so all proclaim; for no unjust man will boast of mocking his justice. How then is it to be believed that a man who is a lover of truth, most faithful, most just, and who teaches these things to others, has himself become, in word and deed, a liar, or faithless, or most unjust? Will he not be ashamed, while teaching virtue to his subjects, to fall himself—being a ruler by the grace of God—into wickedness and then...

^A answering, “What could be more foul than tyranny?” Could it be that these things are not so? God forbid! Or rather, is the sun, instead of illuminating those beneath it, darkened by being reviled?

Thus I asserted, thus I spoke against the king and all others, my son, whenever I made speeches concerning the desire for tyranny in you and your tyranny. But now, what shall I say? For all those things which I previously said on your behalf, which I praised, which I affirmed for the establishment of your virtue, now turn to the contrary; they stop my mouth, they put me to shame, and they do not even allow me to look at those whom I previously contradicted for the sake of your virtue. What is this, my son? What evil demon, envying your glory, has brought you to this point, that you should inherit the name of a tyrant? How much better to be called a ruler established by God than a tyrant! What serpent hissed into the ears of my son? Do we not tremble before divine justice? Do we not fear to consider as a robbery the power which Christ has magnified on earth? ^B Look, my son, where are we being carried? Where did we intend to rush? God hates haughtiness; He casts down those who raise up lofty thoughts. Even if for a little while He allows them to seem to stand, yet again He overturns them. No one can receive anything of himself; and being prudent, you know well—even without our words—that many who entered into counsels thoughtlessly have fared miserably, and have come to repentance, and have greatly reproached themselves for their lack of judgment. And to omit all past examples, who is so obstinate, and so driven by his own desires, and so ready for daring deeds, that he is not taught by the tyrant who, yesterday and the day before, sat upon this very throne, and who shortly paid fitting penalties for the wickedness of his heart, for his cruelty and daring? Namely, that no one receives anything, and especially not such a vast gift, unless it is given to him from above. Then, are we not ashamed that, while we punish others for their perjuries, we ourselves are unjust and impious? And what shall we say that the violation of those awesome oaths is? Is it not a denial of the faith? Is it not an emptying of piety? Is it not an overturning of the very fullness of the Christians? For when someone has violated the awesome mysteries of the Christians, how shall he still be called a Christian?

The excessive pain of my heart ^C and the fervent love toward you which was ignited in me from the beginning—and which still burns—compels me to prolong this discourse; but at the same time, this unexpected calamity and the malice of the evil demon, who desires to undermine your majesty, forbids me from speaking, for I am stunned by the irrationality of the undertaking. Nevertheless, I shall not be silent until I have added one ancient story. You are not unaware of the greatness of the Persian empire, how it flourishes in power and wealth, nor does it escape you that from the beginning the Persians have not ceased to wage war against the Romans. But those who were incessantly moving their arms against the Romans, after Arcadius, the king of the Romans, had departed this life and left the kingdom to his son Theodosius, an infant of three years, deeming it unjust and inhuman to wage war against ^D an empire whose lord, because of his tender age, was...

^A unaware of human affairs and administrative matters, not only did they cease the war which they carried on against Arcadius, but the king of the Persians also sent envoys to the leaders of the senate here. Now, that king was Chosroes, who was considered the most bloodthirsty of all the Persians; yet he himself sent envoys to the chosen men of the senate, declaring that he was ending the war and would act as protector to the infant king, and that if anyone dared to lift up warlike hands, he would defend him with all his might, and would march against that very city with his own army, and returning through it, would cast its foundations into the sea, placing all his eagerness and struggle into this.

Do you hear the kindness of a barbarian and impious king? Do you hear a judgment of mind that is, at least in this, most just? For just as one who seizes the possessions of an orphaned child is a thief and a plunderer, and not merely unjust, so too he who desires to tyrannize over an orphaned and infant king acts not only in the manner of a tyrant, but of a thief and a plunderer, and of the most violent of all men. Perceiving this, that barbarian king—even though he did not know Christ, our God—was ashamed to cast himself, in exchange for his royal honor, into the infamy of a thief and a plunderer, saying to those who were inciting him to this (for there were indeed many wicked men at that time, and true thieves, who were provoking him to this, just as there are now those who are eager to lead your understanding toward this), that they were advising him neither what was just nor what was beneficial. ^B For to acquire wealth or power is possible even for wicked men, but to acquire a glorious name, or having acquired it, to preserve it and not lose it, belongs only to those who are wise and who honor virtue, and who are eager to leave a good memory to life. What do you say? Is it well for you, my child, for the sake of the desire for tyranny, to become worse—being a Christian and hoping for the inheritance of His glory—than a barbarian man, an atheist, a fire-worshipper, and one who considers the sun and the moon to be gods? And how is it not better for one who thinks in such a way to descend into the earth than to behold the sun?

I, my child, just as I said before, having loved you with my whole soul, with a holy love in the Spirit, as most Christian, as most just, as most wise, and as one serving God in all things and studying to please Him—especially since I hear from many that both by night and by day you do not cease to pray to God for that former expedition of yours against the Christians, and that in every way you are cleansing yourself of that sin with fasts and tears and contrition of heart. ^C Learning of this good intention of yours, and the other virtue which my discourse has recounted, I loved you with all my soul. But now, while preserving the same love toward you, having heard this ill-omened and wicked report, I could not bear to remain silent, but weeping and groaning I have sent this letter: first, praying to God to touch your heart, and to turn it toward what is well-pleasing and saving to Him, and to show you irreproachable ^D

^A and unblamable in will. Further, may He open your ears and grant peace to your mind, away from external tumults and disturbances, that you may hear our words and be persuaded of that which we hope will come to pass; and that you might hear us, instead of the present evil words, which have caused us pain and, as far as it depends on those who speak them, have robbed you of great glory and of what is beautiful and beneficial, not shaming your virtue, nor making you, in this present age or the one to come, subject to that eternal disgrace, reproach, and unappeasable punishment which befalls those who despise the great name of Christ and our God.

Certainly, you will not deny that contempt for that great name is a contempt for covenants and oaths, and for the plan to seize a kingdom which in no way belongs to your lineage. Beyond all these things, as your father in the Spirit, though I am the least, and as a priest and minister of the holy altar, though I am unworthy, and as one having received power from the all-holy Spirit to bind ^B those who sin, though I am the first of all sinners, I bind you by the Father and the Son and the holy Spirit, so that if you have intended anything of this sort, as the report has run ahead, and have determined upon tyranny against the city, you may restrain your impulse, be content with your own authority, maintain the peace that existed from the beginning, and dare to innovate nothing. For you should know that if you do this, you shall be bound for all time by the indissoluble chains of the all-holy Spirit and excluded from participation in the holy and immaculate mysteries. I shall also stand with you at the eternal judgment seat, testifying that as far as lay within my power, I did not remain silent, nor did I overlook you rushing into such madness, nor did I abandon the care of your salvation, but I exerted every effort—to lead you back and to turn you away from the harmful impulse of your soul, ^C and from becoming answerable to that chain and to inexorable condemnation. Before all else, however, I shall not cease to stretch forth my unworthy hands to heaven, pouring out prayers to God until He judges a just judgment between your insolence and those who are unjustly oppressed.

VI. To the same

What I wrote before, my son, was written for the sake of the common benefit of the Romans and the Bulgarians; and what I now write pertains to the same purpose and intent. For it does not escape me how harmful it is for both powers and the peoples subjected to them to be divided and to wage war. This troubles me greatly, not only because I am a minister of the holy altar, though I am unworthy, but because in the long span ^D of my miserable life I have learned, not sparingly, from the histories of the ancients and from the events that have taken place in our own times, how many evils arise from dissensions. Since, therefore, I know what infamy and lamentable things weigh upon the human race because of contentions and discords, I write now; for the contention of one against another is harsh, and unless peace soon reconciles the disputes, this party or that will suffer the ultimate fate; but even harsher is the household against

household, and city against city being in such a state. And that one nation should be contentious against another, and refuse to be reconciled, how much harsher this is, there is no need for me to instruct you. ^A But everyone understands this, let alone your own most sensible and perfect wisdom. I have nothing more to say, because it has been said before, and because you are sufficient, I will even say, my son, to instruct others regarding what is beneficial and good and peaceful, not to mention admonishing yourself.

As for what was done in the council and with what intention those who conveyed our letter were sent to you, they will tell you themselves with their own lips, and our letter will also declare to you that, if you are adamant in your disposition and do not wish to return to the former order, you may provide sworn assurance that the Bulgarians will do nothing disadvantageous, and that the so-called covenant may be fulfilled as it was from the beginning, and that the things customarily sent to you from the Roman Empire may be sent up to Develtus, and from there be brought by your own men to your authority, and that you may be content with these things being done in this way, and seek nothing more, nor the arrival and obeisance before you of the imperial men.

Since matters appear to be thus, we have written, both exhorting and entreating you, to spare the calamity that is catching both nations—I mean the Romans and the Bulgarians—if the things of peace, which may God forbid, should be pushed aside. Spare also your own reputation and glory, and do not leave in this life openings for slander and reproach against your illustrious name, ^B nor, on account of the calamities that are to befall both nations, leave yourself open to the curses of those who are falling into misfortune. These things I entreat, these things I advise, as a father to a son, and as a minister, though unworthy of the divine glory, to you who have been glorified by God and who will have to render an account to Him if you are found to have committed anything unworthy and contrary to His holy will.

After those who formerly went to you carrying our letter had returned, they reported to us that, when we said in the letter that it was impossible for your attack to have taken place without the shedding of blood, you countered as if we had said that you could fulfill your enterprise with the shedding of blood. ^C We were greatly amazed and greatly saddened by such words, and I wondered if they were speaking the truth, or if it were not all a lie and a fabrication of the intent of those reporting it. How could you have thought such a thing? How have you uttered this word? For we, having looked to the calamities that grip those who are fighting and dissenting, said that it was impossible that blood would not be shed if your attack and the prevailing contention took place. But they, I do not know whether of their own accord or having heard it from your own tongue, uttered a word that not only we, being old men and archpriests ^D—though unworthy—but not even a child would wish to utter. For who is unaware that when a quarrel arises between certain parties, wounds and slaughter follow?

Nor is it altogether necessary that he attain the goal for the sake of which the one who was stirred up became the cause of the shedding of blood. Or do you not see the wars that take place every day? For these march out desiring to gain the possessions of their enemies; those, on the other hand, march out against them with an equal desire to take the possessions of their enemies; and the evils that occur, occur to both sides; but things do not at all turn out according to the hope of either; rather, some are deceived and fall away from their hopes, and to others, by chance, comes total ruin and destruction. ^B Do not, therefore, my son, either you twist our word, nor let anyone else, by turning it to his own inclination, imagine us to be saying things which we neither know, nor have conceived, nor have spoken; or rather, things that not even anyone else would say, unless they were suffering under the most extreme misfortune of the mind. As we said before, we were struck deeply in our soul at such vanity of speech from those who spoke [it]; and if only what was said were merely vanity, and not also subject to the judgment of eternal condemnation! For if an idle word is not without liability before the judgment seat of Christ, how much more so such calumny! But if those who spoke these things to us brought them forth from their own heart, they do not wound me so much, even though what is said is grievous. Because, since their judgment happens to be imperfect and erroneous, it is likely that their thoughts and utterances are also imperfect and erroneous. But if this is the offspring of your wisdom-loving and glorious authority, may our God spare us and deliver us from calumny, and may He be gracious to you both now and hereafter, bestowing upon you the ability to think, to judge, and to act in ways that will show you to be beyond human censure, and cause you to stand uncondemned before the eternal Judge.

VII. To the Same.

taking you by the hands, and embracing your head, and eyes, and every limb of ^A my son; and if you were struggling, I would by all means have laid hold even of your feet. But since, being present myself, I was unable to restrain you, and it was a necessity for me, while you are away, to make haste to check you in your course, it was necessary for us also to resort to rebuke, as befits a father, and one who has the confidence to rebuke you, my child, not only because you are my child, but also because you love me greatly. For those who love greatly are by nature inclined to bear the rebukes of friends gladly; how much more so should children bear those of fathers, and all the more when the rebuke is given for the sake of the honor and salvation of those who are rebuked? Men of prudence, moreover, by nature bear the rebukes of friends gladly. Why? Because no enemy will ever rebuke one who is acting wrongly, but rather, if he can and gains your trust, he himself will urge you on to worse things. It remains, therefore, that only friends rebuke. And for this reason, as we have said, they rejoice, and are not saddened, when they are rebuked by friends for running toward worse things. ^B Whether, therefore, you receive our rebukes as from a friend or as from a father, you ought by all means to rejoice. For we trust in God, the Savior of all, and King and Lord, that what has been written will not harm you, but will be to your benefit, if indeed you are willing to heed them; for they will provide you with happiness in this world, and heavenly glory, without which whatever things seem good here—namely, glory and power and authority—become burdensome and painful to him who has acquired them, insofar as they diminish heavenly happiness. May you not fall away from this, and may Christ our God provide it for you, through the intercessions of our all-holy, immaculate Lady, who is the hope and salvation of Christians and of all the saints.

VIII. To the same.

^C As we have often written to you, my child, with anguish of heart and with tears, so do we now write to you again, mourning and weeping. For how shall I not mourn? How shall I not weep and lament, low as I am, and deemed worthy—by what groans He knows—to serve God as high priest, when any other person whatsoever, not only one dwelling in the city, but even one separated from the company of men and living in a mountain or in the desert, is unable to hear of the things that have occurred in these present times ^D without tears? How shall I not weep, when the things that are being done grieve God, the cause of all good things, while they delight the father of malice, the devil, the architect of scandals? Or is not that, my child, a most grievous scandal—the enmity, discord, and hatred that has now arisen between the Romans and the Bulgarians, in place of friendship, in place of peace, in place of union? There was a time once when the Romans and Bulgarians were divided, when they clashed with one another in arms, with the dividing wall of enmity separating them, which the impiety that held you captive had placed between them; but after God, having loved the world, reconciled His own creation to Himself through the cross and death of His Son, and deigned to illuminate you with the light of His knowledge, and, with the wall of enmity dissolved, had turned you toward

^A the Romans in love, just as He had in faith—the enmity was abolished, the clash of arms ceased, and love, unity, and mutual intimacy succeeded.

But now, what is this? Alas for the malice of the wicked demon! After the passage of so many years since you were deemed worthy of such grace, after so lasting a charity, after so ancient a friendship, the wicked demon, finding an opportunity, has once again brought in discord and enmity in place of friendship and unity. And the accursed one did not dread, as far as it was in him, to attempt to overthrow such a work of God—namely, the unity of the Romans and the Bulgarians. He was ashamed neither of ^B the duration of time, nor of the blending—if I may so call it—of both nations that has existed for so long; rather, he has desired and still desires to bring it to nothing and, moreover, to dissolve that blessed and divine friendship—that friendship of which he is the father, delighting in the cruelty that sets the Romans and Bulgarians at odds. All this, my son, is a daily cause of grief to me; these things make tears my bread. For this reason, I counseled, rebuked, and urged you previously to return to your senses and to ward off the common calamities that must necessarily befall the Romans and Bulgarians from such enmity and discord. And now, my son, I urge and entreat you to do the same; remember the Lord’s exhortation, where He says: ^C “Whoever causes one of these little ones to stumble, it is better for him that a millstone be hung about his neck and he be cast into the sea.” Consider carefully: if it is so expedient for one who causes one of the little ones to stumble, what shall we say of such a great scandal, which does not extend to one, or five, or ten, or a hundred, but to an innumerable multitude? It does not extend to some little one, but to an empire more sublime than every earthly power, which alone the King of the universe established on earth. Consider, my son, whose those words are. An angel did not say this, nor any of those men who are rich in the grace of God, nor an apostle, nor a prophet, but He Himself who is about to gather all creation and bring it to stand before His own ^D awesome judgment seat. Ponder for me that hour when, having brought these words into the midst, He shall examine this great scandal with His own righteous justice. What shall we say then? What shall we answer in our defense? What excuse shall we offer to repel the terrifying sentence? Furthermore, if He shall add that saying: “What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world, but suffers the loss of his own soul?” what shall we do? What shall we become? What plea shall we find? I, my son, even before that hour, as I say these things now, am filled with dread, I am altogether seized with trembling. But you, I know not why you do not fear or tremble, being prudent and wise; who, since you are, as you are, a man of such worldly glory, flourishing today,

yet tomorrow withering, you desire the heavenly and unfading one all the more.

^B I am compelled, my child, both by the despondency that grips me and by my affection for you, to extend my discourse further; and do listen without irritation. God has set for each nation its boundaries, and likewise its honors and callings; and as many as have remained within the honors given by Him, these have endured. But as many as have disregarded the divine gifts and honors, and have contended to seize something more for themselves, these, even if they have seemed to advance for a little while, have not done so for long in the middle, and have fallen from everything. And, if you wish, it is possible for us to observe this from our own affairs; and consider what I say. If one of our subordinates, having been deemed worthy of some honor from us, should not love or prize this, but rather should contend to clothe himself with something more, shall we not be indignant, shall we not hate him, shall we not be angry at him? Then, if we, being mortal and perishable men, should give some honor to a man of equal nature, and if he should not love it, nor remain thankfully in the gift, but should contend for more on his own, and should be busy attempting to be and seem something newer, shall we not be utterly indignant at the honor given to him by us, and rather render him dishonored, for the reason that he thought to honor himself beyond what is fitting by his own conceit? And will we not suppose that God is so disposed toward those who are unwilling to remain in the honor given to them by Him? And will He not be angry if they should wish to exceed the boundaries of glory and honor which He Himself bestowed? Do not suppose that we write these things sophistically; for I am neither a sophist nor a fabricator of persuasive words, but, although unworthy, a minister of the holy altar, and an intercessor for the salvation of all; and I suppose, as I persuade myself truly, that God is not pleased with such attempts as these.

^D Furthermore, it is necessary for you, my child, to consider that last year, when we had come together, you spoke of nothing but peaceful and most friendly things, and promised that henceforth all discords would be settled, the occasions of scandals removed, all dissension cease, and that a firm peace would be sworn before God between Romans and Bulgarians, such as had never before occurred, nor had our ancestors known. Where now, my child, is that sweet affection? What has become of that promise of peace? Where are those words in which God rejoiced and in which men hearing them rejoiced? Where have those happy hopes fled, which we held without doubt, that the wicked demon would no longer have the power to cast a scandal between Romans and Bulgarians, nor would he disturb their pure love? Consider, being prudent by the grace of God, and sharp at discerning the good, the machinations of the wicked one; for he is multiform and fights with every device against the salvation of the divine creation; he envies every man, but more so those who have received greater grace from God. Since, therefore, he knows that you, my child, have been gifted by God with prudence, goodness, honesty, gentleness, and many other excellent qualities, therefore

he is kindled with greater envy against you, and desires by every artifice to satisfy his envy. Yet let not his snare escape you; rather, by how much you abound in good things, by that much become more humble, that you may escape his snare. Honor and glory have been given to you on earth by God; strive, in addition to this, to obtain the heavenly as well. And you will obtain it if you are humble, not puffed up, not exalting your heart, not becoming arrogant beyond what is fitting, and not violating the treaties and oaths ^B which your fathers established long ago, and which you yourself established only yesterday and the day before. If anyone were to swear by your name and then dare to violate that oath, he would pay the penalty with an inexorable death; but if one who invokes in an oath the God, Creator, and Lord of all, then becomes a violator, is he not guilty of a thousand deaths? But what then? Because he does not immediately inflict the penalty on account of his human kindness and ineffable long-suffering, are we for that reason to despise him? But this very thing, I think, will bring upon us a more severe penalty, and by how much more he is long-suffering, by that much more painful it will be.

But perhaps I have extended this letter more than is fitting; therefore, having said this much, I shall be silent. I am no prophet, nor one of those who have received the grace to foresee future events, but as a minister of the immaculate altar, however unworthy, and as a father caring for the salvation of his son, I warn and I foretell. Reject the cause of scandals; abandon your plan, by which the order of the Holy Spirit is destroyed—that is, the peace and love which have existed for so long between the Romans and the Bulgarians. Return to those original sentiments, with which by the grace of God each nation lived happily, without tears and without calamities; for if the resurrection of God does not escape me, he will arise in vengeance, ^C and there will be none to deliver one from his hand.

IX. To the same.

What fountains of tears shall I find? What groans, not unequal to my sorrows, shall I adopt? For my sorrows are as many as the people of Christ and my God, his holy and much-desired inheritance, for which he underwent the cross and death. How then shall I bewail these things? Or what consolation shall I find for my anguish and the tearing of my heart? Or for the malice of the man-slayer from the beginning, who burns with bitter envy against the work of God’s hands, ^D who unceasingly drives men to ruin and destruction? For from the beginning that impious and most wicked one, raging against the human race, does not cease, even to this day—or rather, as long as man shall live upon the earth—to shake them and incite them against one another; so that, since he is not permitted to openly plot against us, we ourselves might contrive snares and machinations against one another. By that impulse of his, insane from the beginning, he arms the hands of brothers against the offspring of the same seed and the same womb, and parents kill their children for whom and their soul

souls, and friends grew to be strangers to friends. Woe is me for that accursed demon, and for the passions and the groanings and the tears that have now overtaken me; for the rupturing of the bond of love between the Roman and the Bulgarian authorities—that bond of the children of Christ and my God. ^A Since the moment God, desiring to grant peace to the world through the emptying from the Father’s bosom, reclaimed the Bulgarian race to Himself and joined it in brotherhood with the Roman race, granting it the same honor of being called Christians as we have been granted, the one who is ever envious of good things, unable to bear such a benefit bestowed upon you, and engaged in a ceaseless struggle to grieve Christ and our God, our common benefactor, insofar as it lies within him, and to deprive the Bulgarian race of the honor granted to it by Him—he found, as it seems, after long delay, the fulfillment of his plot. And having found vessels, according to the blessed Apostle, fitted for perdition, some from your race and some from ours, he brought about this wretched task, so worthy of tears for both us and you, and accomplished such slaughter and ruin of the inheritance of Christ, with hands that were not accustomed to serve infidels or impiety, but were sanctified by holy baptism, and knew how to lift themselves to the heavenly Father, and to secure themselves against the assaults of the wicked one with the sign of the cross. ^B What shall I be in the face of these things? What shall I do? Whom shall I mourn—those who were stirred up against each other, and who by their kindred slaughter polluted both the earth and the air? They have brought faces of gloom not only to those Christians who hear these things in the whole world, but even to the angels in heaven; for they too, by all means, show gloom, and if their nature provided tears, they would have wept, while the Lord of all is grieved at what has happened. For you can surely imagine, my son, what the grief must be of Him who does not desire the death of the sinner, but that he should return and live, in the face of so many deaths—deaths which no one else but the devil, the parent of sin, and those who love it, have wrought. ^C But until when shall I mourn and lament these things? It is necessary to leave behind the things that have happened, since it is not possible to wake the dead, but from now on to turn my speech to other matters, my son, my own bowels. For even if you have struck at my heart, even if you have filled it with pain by what you have done, the fatherly bowels still yearn for you. Be content with what has been done; let the activity of the wicked demon against the common slaughter of the Christians stop here, and let him have no power to rejoice and gloat further over the common calamity, nor to make Christ and our God grieve, nor the angels who are lovers of mankind, nor all those who have been gifted with piety. ^D

^A For it is good indeed never to take the beginning of an evil work, nor for a man to fall away from what is proper; but if, perchance, something of the sort should happen, such as must needs occur in a life filled with many sins and many wanderings, it is incumbent—since we still share in the providence of God—to bring about correction for the fault. A pitiful and deeply mournful failing has occurred between the Bulgarians and the Romans; what time could ever grant it oblivion, or prevent it from being remembered throughout all the ages as a common monument and reproach, due in part to our having failed, and in part to yours? But as for your own failing, even without my words you yourselves perceive it; for since you are most prudent and establish your own conscience as judge, you will recognize the cause even before my words.

The failing of our own people—alas, for the power of wicked men!—I cannot say precisely how it came about, since I do not have accurate knowledge of the deliberations. For as to what was plotted and prepared beforehand (for we, honoring the truth, must rebuke, and we must begin from those here who rule), we neither concurred, nor had we any knowledge of it, nor even of how the mobilization of so great an army began. ^B But when I grasped what was happening here, the matter did not escape me; for when such a multitude was gathered, if not from those who direct affairs, yet from others, I learned the reason for the gathering of the army, namely, that the great mobilization had come about because of the expedition against the Bulgarians. Then, indeed, then, having sought entry to the palace, when we encountered the rulers, we sought to learn with our own tongue of the mobilization of the army; and as was fitting, we censured and reproached [them] that we, being bishops of the city, had not been made partners in the counsel. As for the others, their various apologies were put forward as far as it was possible for them to apologize and dissolve the cause of the reproach. But they said that they were sending an army to you not for the sake of war, nor for murders and the shedding of blood; but the things which they made known to me, these I now make known to you, our child. ^C

You know, father and master, the generals of Macedonia and Thrace. They, therefore, said—and they do not cease day by day from making [points] certain, both through writings and through the mouths of their own apocrisiaries, affirming that they speak the truth and that no ambiguity accompanies their words—that the purpose of the Bulgarians is to despoil and plunder our land completely. And they added faith to their words, that they were not lying, but that the Bulgarians truly were thinking of doing such things, [namely] the abandonment of the agreements which they said the Bulgarians had made, as they were no longer willing to abide by what had already been agreed upon. ^D Then they added to this, saying to us that you are not ignorant of Bogas, who is appointed to govern Cherson. This governor of Cherson does not cease, constantly reporting that the Bulgarians are bestirring themselves with all haste, and [are inciting] the Patzinaks, and whatever other nation is in those regions, to join an expedition and war against the Romans. And he does not say it one moment and stay silent the next, but incessantly, day by day, he disturbs our ears and minds with the same letters and words; furthermore, they said that sixteen apocrisiaries from the nation of the Patzinaks had come announcing the same thing, the apocrisiaries

^A dispatched from Bulgaria—not once or twice, but very many times, inviting them to an alliance with themselves; and so greatly did the Bulgarians desire this that they even strove to unite and bind the alliance of the Patzinaks to themselves through the intermarriage of their own children. Since we were distressed by such talk, and because we had previously engaged in efforts both by written declarations and by unwritten messages to plant a peaceful disposition between the Bulgarians and us, but were unable to succeed, we came—albeit unwillingly—to such a resolve: to organize a military expedition against them and to attempt by such means to restrain the impetus of the Bulgarians, but not for the purpose of leading the people to bloodshed and slaughter—if perhaps God might grant, through such a course of action, that we draw them toward love and secure the bond of friendship.

Thou hast the defense, O Father and Lord, and ^B be not angry nor indignant. I, indeed, could not be disbelieving, yet I did reproach, chide, rebuke, and say that these things ought to be indicated yet again in writing; and they asked me to write. But I, a vain man—for I shall confess my sin and reproach my own wretchedness—I know not how I became sluggish in this ministry: partly, it seems, because my sins caused the delay, and partly because I presumed that, since according to their words the mobilization of the people was intended only as a show and simulation of combat, it would not result in true war, nor would such a motion lead to slaughter and the shedding of blood, and therefore I did not deem the dispatching of my letter to be a matter of great urgency. These are the things, my son, that checked my zeal to write to thee before the beginning of this deplorable war. But tell me also, I beseech thee, my son, shake off thy anger and bitterness of soul, and as a man of understanding, judge these things with sound reason: when the generals of Macedonia and Thrace, and from the other side Bogas and the apocrisiaries of the Patzinaks, were again ^C affirming, and with such words were stirring up the hearts of those people, what were they expected to think and to do, when they were being thrown into confusion by such baleful reports? I know well that thou art wise in judging matters, and therefore thou wilt certainly confess that it was fitting for them to think and act in the way that was devised to be for their salvation.

On account of this, as far as I was persuaded by the things which they provided in affirmation, the gathering and mobilization of the army occurred, and the dispatch to the Patzinaks—not so that they should conduct a war, nor so that they should effect the slaughter of thy people, ^D but so that they might, on the one hand, secure their own safety, and on the other, only check the impetus of your forces, as they say, and prevent them from overrunning Roman territory, just as those wretched men, Bogas and the envoys of the Patzinaks, had reported, to whom they gave credence and the words of the leaders

This, they told us, was their objective in assembling the army, and this the cause of their mission to the Patzinaks. And I believed them, considering that this is the kind of thing humans are accustomed to think, ^A something of which you yourself, my son, are not ignorant: for when children rise up against their parents, and the parents cannot by their own efforts suppress the rebellion of their children, they are sometimes compelled by their love for them to enlist others from the outside for assistance, in order that, through them, they may strike fear into their children and draw them to themselves even against their will—which is what I supposed they had also devised with regard to you. Since, after a discord had been produced by the wicked demon between the Bulgarians and the Romans, those who had become like fathers could not, by their own power, draw you to themselves, they—as they claim—planned only to simulate the form of a war, wishing to reconcile you and receive you back into their arms, ^B but by no means to wage a true war, nor to come to slaughters and bloodshed, as they insist. But they did not stop to consider that they were providing the wicked demon an occasion to inflict so many evils and so many bitter torments upon all Christians; for he, although often without any occasion provided by men, draws forth every evil from himself, also often, even when a very small occasion is grasped, performs by his own malice the greatest of evils—wherefore this great evil, than which there is none greater, between the Bulgarians and the Romans, alas for my sins, has found a place to be brought to completion.

I know what you will say, and you will say it justly, unless we intervene in some other way: for you will surely say, if they were only feigning war ^C and that was their only aim, why then did they invade the land of the Bulgarians and conduct themselves in the manner of enemies before the war? I said these very things to them also, my son, before your objection, and I reproached and rebuked them. But even to these things, a defense was not lacking for them; whether that defense is true, you must see. For they said that, after the Bulgarians had invaded the Roman territories against the law of war, at Dyrrachium and in the region of Thessalonica, an occasion arose for the Roman armies to enter the land of the Bulgarians; and that even those incursions, such as war knows, they did not intend to carry fully into effect. Whether these things happened so, I do not know; but they insist upon it, and it is yours to know, as it is for your prudent conscience not to deny what has occurred. ^D However, my son, whatever the apologies of those here may have been, I did not deem them reasonable, and for this reason I have countered them with reproaches, rebukes, and censures, and I shall not cease to counter them. But you, as if present and embraced by me, I now entreat: let these harsh things stop at this point; let us come to our senses, let us reflect that we are heirs of Christ. And even if we are divided by race, yet by faith we are one body and we possess one head, Christ; we are members of one another, but members are not accustomed to rise up against one another; but, according to the blessed apostle, "If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it," and Christians

are we; let us not falsify our calling. Woe to these unbearable evils! ^A The devil has turned those who were taught to pursue peace with all men and to be gentle toward all people against one another to wage war; he, the master of madness, has made those who ought to be mild toward all to rage against each other, ^B and has brought them to a state of frenzy among themselves.

In times past, those who had known Christ and had been called by His holy name sanctified the earth with their own blood, filled the air with sweet fragrance, covered the devil and his demons with shame, gave the angels cause to dance and leap for joy, and glorified the Master with their own slaughter; but what of now? Those who take their name from Christ have defiled the earth with their own blood, filled the air with stench, given the demons cause to dance, provided the angels with reason to be sorrowful, and caused the Master such pain as even those who crucified Him on the wood did not inflict. And that I speak the truth, consider and understand. For there, even if He suffered ^C because of the wounds, yet He rejoiced for the salvation of those for whom the wounds were endured; but here, the suffering is present, but the rejoicing is nowhere to be found. Does not my speech rightly seek rivers of tears from the beginning, when such calamities surround my wretched life? Would that I had perished beforehand, and that my life had not been preserved for such painful circumstances! But if you care, my son, not to grieve Christ and our God, who for our sake came forth from the bosom of the Father, and who endured sufferings that He might free us from sufferings; if you have any concern about not saddening the benevolent angels, and not causing the misanthropic demons to rejoice and triumph—and I will add also my own part—if you have regard for the prayer of me, your humble father, do not think any longer of doing harm, nor of resuming the war ^D against your spiritual Father, our king crowned by God; whose friendship, even if you have not yet experienced it due to your tender age and the scandals previously introduced by the evil one, you shall surely experience once peace has been established with God's help, and you will learn by experience that, just as he has become the heir of the sceptre of his blessed father, so too he is the heir of his affection, love, and sweet disposition toward you.

Finally, my son, at all these things which we have exhorted, see that you do not despise them; for it is the voice of Christ and our God: "He who rejects you, rejects me." And that one, although a sinner, I have stood at the altar and received from the Holy Spirit the power to bind and to loose. See, therefore, I say again, and do not despise, for we bind you with an indissoluble and ineffable bond in the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, that you no longer depart from your kingdom, neither you nor your people; nor bring damage or detriment or captivity upon these regions or peoples whose command until now has belonged to the Christian sceptres, from the time it was granted to the Bulgarians through immaculate baptism to acknowledge Christ and the God of all,

and the agreements then made, defining the hegemony of both the Romans and the Bulgarians, have been confirmed. I have sent, my son, not as a gift, but as a mediator and upholder, our exhortation; we have sent the divine sayings of Christ and our God to your prudent and, as I believe, gentle heart, even if the scandals of the devil have exacerbated it. By these, having before your eyes as it were his saving passions for mankind and his holy blood poured out for the peace of the world, do not disdain my words, but receive them as a son honoring a father, knowing our exhortations, and leave to life an example for the glory of the great God and our Savior, and for your own praise—and if you will, I shall say, for my own as well, and as a subject of glory for me—that I had a son who was obedient and a venerator of my old age, who, when the devil had once cast ^B harmful and great scandals, and by these had kindled an inextinguishable fire, did not permit the wicked demon to glory for long in the fire kindled by him, but yielding to the tears, groans, and griefs of his aged father, granted victory over the bitterness of the soul to gentleness and moderation, and quenching the fire of the heart, changed the evils of war and battle into peace, love, and friendship. May God grant—even if until now, alas for the wickedness of the devil! he did not allow that peace to remain inviolate—that from now on it may be secure from all harm and dissension, and not subject to the envy of the devil, but strengthened with the firmness of that peace which Christ our God and Father left to those who confess him as Father and desire his glory and inheritance.

The one who brings this letter should enjoy your benevolence, and this on account of his own virtue: for he is one of the ascetics on Olympus, though he sowed the word of faith among the Alans in the power of the most holy Spirit, and has been allotted by God a ministry not inferior to the divine apostles. These things are indeed sufficient to recommend him and make him well-disposed to your honorable majesty; and if any regard for us exists with you—and I have no doubt that it does—for this reason also let him be considered worthy to enjoy your benevolence, and to return to us as quickly as possible. May Christ our God keep you in good health in mind and body, and grant you to think, care for, and do those things which may make you an heir of his glory in the life to come, of that truly blessed glory and pleasant sweetness, when God, standing in the midst of those who have pleased him, as God, shall distribute to them the rewards of incorruptible pleasures.

X. To the same.

This same word, which you placed at the head of your excellent and wise letter, I too place here at the head, my son—if indeed it is right to call him a son who does injury to his father; yet a father to you, whether you wish ^D

^A or not, a bishop, however minimal, who has not denied piety toward God. For even if they have sinned, bishops do not have you as their judges; rather, bishops are your judges, if indeed you are of Christ’s flock, and not wandering far from His fold. But we are foolish, as you say, O wise man; we give thanks to our God who, because of our sins, has cast us down to the ground of humiliation. But tell me, you ^B wise and most prudent man, if I am a foolish aged father, and am entreating a young son for peace, for a truce, and for the cessation of the shedding of Christian blood, what kind of young son would it be who calls his father, who entreats him for peace, a fool? Attend to what you think, what you say, what you write. “I saw,” says the prophet, “the exalted and lifted up” (what we have omitted, we have omitted out of regard for you, though you are not unaware of it), “and I passed by, and behold he was not, and I sought him, and his place was not found.” ^C But let this part of the letter stand here; hear what follows. Do not imagine that the defeat which has occurred is going to advance the completion of your vain schemes; do not suppose this; and if you do suppose it, discard your supposition as nonsense. The people who fought with you have been conquered, first by the unsearchable counsel of Him who, when He wills, brings forth His judgments from a secret storehouse; and secondly, in so far as it is given to men to know, because of their own faults. You do wrong and act without foresight by snatching at victory for your own selfish desire, and by reckoning—as if because of your seizing the Roman power—that the sin which occurred happened to the Roman people. You are young; and if you have not heard, learn; if, ^D after having heard, you have become forgetful, remember.

Long ago, the Persian army encamped right up to this place, and it accomplished the conflagrations and the destruction of buildings which you now threaten. But they perished, and they remain in nothing but the memory of a name; yet the Roman empire stands upon its own foundation. But even prior to them, the race of the Avars, of whom you are a severed branch, and—lest my words weigh heavily upon you—slaves and runaways against this great city, they who were subjected to the city that is mistress and queen of all, rushed in vast numbers right up to the walls; but they also perished, and not even a remnant of the race survives, while this city shines with the glory and the power given to it from the beginning. Do you wish that we should write to you of another tyrannical incursion, not that it is worthy to be compared with your incursion? The race of the Saracens, with countless ships, and with a more numerous cavalry and infantry, surrounded this great and truly city of God for seven years, and destruction saw all of them, and only a very few returned to their own homeland; but this city subsists and is preserved, guarded by the protection of the ancient benevolence of God. I have loved and I do love you, my son, your “foolish,” as you say, father, and I urge you in sane—as you think, but in truth not insane—counsel: abandon the error of those who deceive you; cast away vain hope, and be content with that power which you [received] from your ancestors.

Do not desire to rule over those by whom you were taught to recognize the Lord of all. No one who is the servant of another, and afterwards is liberated from slavery by someone, seeks—if he is of sound mind—to become the master of the one who delivered him from slavery. Consider also yourselves, that you were slaves of demons, and were delivered from that slavery by those who, by God’s grace, govern the Roman power; do not even conceive the thought of becoming masters of those by whom you were deemed worthy of freedom. Do not be so ungrateful, nor leave behind such a memory as the one that occurred—a leader of the Bulgarians who wished to reduce into slavery those very people who had liberated the Bulgarian nation from the slavery of the devil, and to become master of his own liberators. These things I, the "insane" one according to your estimation, have written to you as to a "wise" man; but you do not ignore, as one who is wise—if indeed you are wise—the saying: ^B "Give occasion to a wise man, and he will be yet wiser." [Prov. IX, 9]

XI. To the same.

If it were possible for me, my son, to come to you, I would not have refused to do so; but neither the length of the journey nor the severity of the winter would I have considered of great account, and I would not have delayed in reaching your most glorious majesty. Now, however, old age presses upon me and scarcely allows me to leave my bed; whence, though unwilling, I am prevented from that journey, which, had I been able to make it, I would certainly not have been cheated of my desire. For I would not have ceased, at one moment entreating with words, kissing your head, your eyes, your beloved countenance, and your hands; at another, embracing your knees, and perhaps even your feet, until I had attained my goal. ^C But heavy old age holds me back, and the inexorable tyranny of infirmity; hence, there is a need for a letter. But first consider, my son, for what cause I write; and if perhaps, by reason of my sins, I am unworthy to be heard, let the magnitude of the matter for which I plead move your pious soul—a matter which, I believe, you yourself also desire and seek, although obstacles arising from men are wont to restrain that good desire. But why do I not speak sooner of the volition of my soul and of the matter itself? I am preparing an approach and, as it were, paving a way for my supplication. We supplicate and beseech you, my son, sending to you that prayer whose Apostle and Legate the Father and God of all sent, His only-begotten Son, into the world; for He sent from His immaculate and divine bosom His co-equal and co-substantial Son, to destroy the partition wall of enmity, and to bestow peace upon those who were waging war against one another. We, the humble, who stand at the holy altar, make this supplication, not on account of any merit of our own, ^D but on account of the ceaseless goodness of Him who granted us this holy grace; we entreat that same pious soul of yours, which we also entreat at the altar of God, that is, for the restoration of peace.

^A How long will the ancient enemy of the creature of the divine hand rejoice in our calamities? How long will the earth be defiled with the blood of Christians poured out by Christian hands? Cain slew his brother Abel, and although only one was slain, yet his blood cried out to God. What are your thoughts, my son? What do you think about so much blood being poured out until now? How great must the cry be that is carried up to God? And I do not yet speak of the living, the orphaned infants, the widowed women, those bereaved of brothers or children; the holy altars, the dispersion of monks, the violation of virgins: the groans and tears of all of whom are unceasingly carried to God. It does not escape me, prudent one—nay, most prudent of men—that you understand these things even before my letter; but, alas! through the malice of the devil and the wickedness of men, bitterness has fallen upon your gentle soul, which, being human, provokes and stirs you up with ambition and does not allow you to indulge in your own gentleness. But, beloved son, whether this is the work of the devil—and let us no longer permit him to rage against us—or whether those pitiable and sad things have sprung from the malevolence of men, let us put an end to our mutual invasions. The authors of that wicked counsel were those who first began to afflict your soul with their expeditions against you: they have paid sufficient penalties; count the evils that have happened to each one, extinguish your anger for the evils that those who tried to harm you have suffered, and quench the anger of your soul by those things which they have suffered.

^C This law is in force not only among men, but even among beasts. For it is often possible to see beasts rushing in anger against one another; then, when one is worsted, the other is appeased. Let us not wish to surpass the nature of beasts, nor to have an inextinguishable anger, nor a bitterness that is implacable. But coming to human reasonings, and especially those befitting your prudence, abandon the wars, the slaughters, and the shedding of blood, and look toward the great good of peace, the priceless inheritance which our brother left us, having deigned to become our brother so that, having made peace, He might adopt us as children to God and Father. Consider, son, that you see Him standing between the Romans and the Bulgarians, ^D and showing His own wounds—the pierced side, the openings of the hands and feet—and saying such things as: "What is this, my children, my people, my beloved inheritance, which the Father gave me in return for my obedience and my condescension even unto the cross and death? What is this? How have you forgotten my commandment? How do you not remember my exhortations? Where has that love, which I left to you, perished for me? What has become of the peace which I taught you? How, confessing me as head and striving to be called my members, do you wage war against one another?" It is not the way of members having the same head; it is necessary that it be divided and another head be sought. Consider that Christ our God says these things, affected by greater grief than when...

^A He was nailed to the cross; and let us, truly hearing His words, be shamed, let us revere His wounds, let us fear to bring grief to Him; and while there is time, let us heal the offenses against one another, and let us relieve even Him of the pain and suffering caused by us, and let us make the divine verdict favorable for us, having turned back to peace, and having reclaimed our ancient love; and let us not wait to be judged there for those things for which we have waged war—or rather, to speak more correctly, have raged—against one another, when any apology will be unaccepted, and every pretext ineffective, and condemnation unforgivable.

Do not accuse us of loquacity if we extend our speech further; for the shared sufferings and the heart’s anguish compel this. And if it were granted to me, according to the ancient saying, to use many tongues, I would rejoice, for perhaps I could thus sufficiently lament, and offer prayers to God and to your noble majesty that are not so unequal to the evils. But since I do not have a store of many tongues, I shall use the one granted to me by nature, and, as I said, compelled by the anguish of my heart, I shall extend my speech. Consider, my son, before the coming judgment, before that dread standing, that there is no distinction of rulers and paupers with regard to this worldly display, but only ^B by the merits of the soul alone.

Conceive in your mind, before that universal gathering at the seat of the impartial Judge, the memory of those who will be in this life after our death, in regard to us. For who among those who come hereafter, upon hearing of such slaughter of Christians, will not rail, will not curse, and will not heap every evil name upon those who have committed such things?

There have been many who were enemies to one another, but as many as were more moderate, as many as were more humane in their character, set a limit to their enmity; they did not remain in evil forever, but knowing well that to act as enemies is alien to human nature, they turned their enmity into peace. And I do not speak only of children toward parents, brothers toward brothers, and disciples toward teachers doing this, but even those who were far removed from such connections and relationships. What then of you? You exercise implacable enmity: children toward parents, brothers toward brothers, disciples toward ^C teachers—and that of what a discipline! That which opened the eyes of your mind, which led you to the light, which delivered you from the slavery of the devil, and what surpasses all things incomparably, which made you sons of God. Who then among those who come after, having learned these things, will not heap all manner of insults and all manner of blasphemies upon those who have cultivated such an immortal enmity? Furthermore, what is the profit of prestige, of glory, of authority, and of power, when, having departed from this life, we leave behind a wicked name? When we are insulted, when we are overwhelmed with reproaches by those who hate evil? When those who love the good of peace and detest slaughter and murder curse us? ^D

^A A good name is better, my son, not only than much wealth, but also than all glory and worldly ^B prominence. Reflect with me upon this and upon the good name you have desired since childhood, an honorable and brilliant memory. Let us not lose this through contention and bitterness of soul; it is a good provision for the life to come to depart with the praises of virtue. It is good, too, to leave to your children the name of being children of a good father—gentle, mild, kind, and humane—rather than the opposites of these. Far be it, my son, that your sons—my most sweet children—should be so unfortunate as to inherit the contrary instead of the good names I have mentioned. This inheritance is more valuable than the authority and power you are to leave behind for them—the authority of which you are mindful, having been truly established by God to rule your people. And furthermore, since you are deviating neither from your initial gentleness nor from your mild spirit, open your ears to us, and before your ears, your heart, and pay attention to what is said as if from a friend and spoken out of love—unless you deem it unworthy to call me "father," even if I am a sinner, yet an elder and one who has obtained the dignity of a bishop, whom Christ our God has provided to you as spiritual fathers, much more genuine than those by the flesh; for the bonds of the flesh are dissolved, but those of the spirit are indissoluble.

But let our discourse end in prayer. And what else should we say but this? May Christ, our true God, who came into the world to remove scandals, soften your noble soul, and if any scandal has fallen upon it, clear it away, and may He rekindle within you the light of divine brightness, which the father of darkness has endeavored to extinguish, and cause it to shine forth. May He, who destroyed enmity in His own flesh, who joined what was separated, who made peace for all things through His holy and immaculate blood, even now drive away all dissension, all discord, and all enmity from the Romans and Bulgarians. May He join them once again into one, and grant them to enjoy the goods of peace, having quickly crushed the sower of scandals and the progenitor of evil.

XII. To the Archbishop of Bulgaria

^D We are aware, your archiepiscopal perfection, regarding the matter about which we are prompted to write, that you think the same way we do and bear the same pain in your heart, being tormented by the same afflictions. Therefore, we do not write this as an exhortation or instruction, but as a conversation, like what we would investigate in common if we were present together and living in the same place. This concerns the evils that have beset the people of Christ—I mean the Romans and the Bulgarians—who are now separated from one another by him who in the beginning separated man from God and divided the people; regarding this we write with a common concern, which we incessantly in the heart

bear, groaning and lamenting, I know that you also bear likewise, and your tears become your bread; for from our own experiences we learn of yours, since for those whose work and ministry is common, it is natural that their sufferings and toils should also be common. But that the same distress and similar pains prick your heart, just as they do ours, it is sufficient to have mentioned this much.

Now, therefore, let us begin our discussion and common investigation. Others have been assigned other ministries in this present life—I mean kings and rulers of cities, those placed over other affairs, and dispensers of administration—each of whom, intent upon his own duty, if he is prudent, strives ^B to perform his own work blamelessly. But we, who have been appointed to stand at the holy altar, although we are obligated to perform many other duties, yet before everything else, we have been called to the work of peace and to moving scandal and enmity out of the way. For the offering of the dread sacrifice, which we perform in remembrance of Him who, in order to dissolve the eternal enmity, that violent madness of men against God, which there was no hope could be converted into a zeal for peace, endured all that He endured—the spittings, the slaps, the death at the hands of criminals—this reminds us without ceasing, with all our strength, with all our mind, and with every word, to be zealous helpers of peace, enemies of enmity, and with our whole heart to close the way to scandals; ^C since this great mystery of our ministry sets Him forth before our eyes, the Son of the most benevolent Father, who so loved the world that He sent Him to us. Indeed, this mystery sets before our eyes, as if visible, that Only-Begotten, the beloved Lamb of God, who was sacrificed and became an expiation for our enmities toward God and the Father. He who, being heir of the divine glory, despised such great shame and ignominy inflicted upon Him by men, so that He might deliver the alienated, the enemies, and the hostile by His own sufferings, by His wounds, and by His shame, and might restore them to peace and make them friends of God. What then, brother and fellow priest, must we do? What kind of heart must we have, what care, what anxiety, when we see some raging against one another ^D and, instead of peace, being zealous for enmities? And I say this regarding individuals, one by one. How much concern, then, are we obligated to show, in order to reconcile those whose souls have been so affected by the evil one, and to lead them back to peace, and to persuade them to return to unity through love? And when it is not one or two, or ten, or many more than these, but a whole household and city, and even a whole nation against a whole nation—and those of the same faith, alas, the weight of my pains!—the efficacy of the devil drives them into this evil, what shall we do? What shall we devise? What shall we think? What day or what night will allow us rest from such care and anxiety?

through the activity of the demon into this evil, what shall we do? What shall we consider? What shall we think? What day or night shall relieve us from such anxiety, or from this constraint? ^A Up to this point, our discourse has proceeded as it has; but now, as if the very events themselves have taken up a voice, they cry out more vehemently. The father of wickedness, who is the enemy of peace, the devil, has roused arms and swords between the Romans and the Bulgarians; he has filled them with madness against one another; he has accomplished all that has been done up to this day. Alas for the multitude of my sins! Who will intercede? Who will be the mediator? Who, with God’s help, will cause so great a destruction of men to cease? Who will keep the earth from being further polluted by Christian blood? And who is the other? This is my duty and yours. ^B But we, to whom every thought of the heart is manifest, stand firm in that we did, from the very beginning, turn away from the undertaking of war; and after the evil had prevailed, we did not cease to advise them to throw down their arms and to resume peace and love with the Bulgarians, and the paternal disposition toward them. And when God touched their hearts, they repented of what they had previously obeyed, and became ready to do what we advised thereafter, and from that time until now they have sought after the things of peace and the bond of love, and have loathed the matters of the war against you. But what shall I say? He who from the beginning has envied the human race has kept his envy bitter even now against the union of the Bulgarians and Romans, and because he succeeded in lighting the fire of enmity, he rejoices in this soul-destroying fire, and puts forth much effort in its rekindling, and does not allow my good and beloved and most prudent son, who has happened to rule the Bulgarians, to be his own virtuous self, ^C and to turn toward the good of peace, and to be of his ancient sweetness. But the envious one, the persecutor of good things, always casting a bitter thought into his sweet soul, strives to banish the sweetest peace.

But these are the works of the nefarious demon. We, however, trusting in God and in the mildness of my desirable son that we shall not fail in our purpose, have sent a letter to him, urging some things, entreating others, according to the proper dispositions of his mind and heart. Indeed, although it was for a short time, nevertheless, because we once stood in his presence, we received proof of his nature; and we recognized his prudence, his mildness, his moderation, his goodness, and that his nature is ^D alien to all cruelty and impudence. We have written, therefore, interceding for peace, and we are full of hope that he will be swayed first by God, who granted him the dominion of the Bulgarians, and then by his own gentleness and benignity; he will also be swayed by our exhortations. We have done such things and rely on such hope; and it is your task as archbishops, since you mourn over the common calamities, the common sorrows, and such an inundation of evils, and because that task is as if your very own, to assist my mission, and to appease and supplicantly entreat our beloved son.

^B You have many reasons that contribute to his persuasion: first, what the Word has said beforehand, the inconsolable grief of Christ and our God, over the fact that those who bear His precious name—He who was led as a sheep to the slaughter, that He might bestow this name upon us—have turned into beasts against one another, [and that they have done so regarding] the holy temples in which each one enters to pray to God for himself, for his children, and for the whole nation of which he has been established as ruler, and [regarding] the holy and immaculate body and blood, of which by eating and drinking he has unhesitating hope of becoming a partaker of holiness. Set before his eyes through your words all that he has seen with his own eyes and, even before your words, is not unaware of: the desolation of the land that he has traveled through, in place of the beauty hitherto seen; the miserable deformity of the fields, [despoiled] of their corn, their vines, and their other fruit-bearing trees. Remind him of the destruction of the holy houses of God, which the hands of the pious had raised to the glory of God with much labor. Add also the ruin of the venerable monasteries, in which monks and virgins used to sing hymns to God without ceasing, and which now are left lying in ruins. Add, besides these, the manifold slaughter of men—alas for the excessive power of the wicked demon!—[and remind him of] the corpses of priests, of male and female monastics, cast out and not even deemed worthy of burial, but set forth as food for dogs and wild beasts.

And why do I say these things? You possess a great and ineffable abundance [of arguments] from this unheard-of tragedy, and above all [you have the advantage of] the gentleness and the most perfect prudence of the one whom you will beseech, from which [your] intercession will be assisted. But moved by the grief that binds both me and you, and by the cares that hold us both indebted to work for the common salvation and peace, show yourself to be doing what you can, and perform in our stead those things which we ourselves would do if we were present. Embrace his hands, take hold of his knees, if need be even his feet, and in a word, do not omit to say or do anything until, by the grace from above, the soul of our sweet son is inclined toward the good of peace, and men are sent forth by him through whom the things of peace may be renewed, the ills of war and enmity may be abolished, and the devil, who rejoices in the common calamities of the Bulgarians and Romans, may be driven away; so that most precious love may again have free speech, and the precious things that belong to it, from which joy and the enjoyment of good things shall come to both peoples, and the experience of these most grievous troubles, and the dejection and sadness of [their] countenances, shall be done away with.

XIII. To the first man of Simeon.

The ministers of the greatest powers are adorned with the greatest virtues and merits, my son, and all the more [so the more]...

they are known to be intimate. Knowing you to be such, we are also aware that, even without our words, you consider those things which are fitting for the greatness of your virtue. Since, therefore, we feel this way about you, we have been moved to address the present subject of this letter—a matter of great importance, ^B and one which deserves to be rectified through your prudence. It is about the peace which Christ our God has given us, about putting an end to the slaughter and the shedding of blood and the other evils known to arise from wars; for there is no greater matter, nor any task more fitting for prudent men and those possessing the greatest glory to contemplate. We have written concerning this to our glorious and beloved son, and we are not unaware that his soul, which is good-loving, gentle, and mild—even if the multitude of my sins has sown seeds of bitterness in it—will attend favorably to our words. Yet we also stir you through this letter to take hold [of this matter], and as his well-disposed and intimate servant, to offer him a service which will truly be a cause of great glory to him. For while in many other things you strive to serve him, as one keeping pure your love toward him and desiring his honor and glory, in no other matter will you be seen to be serving what is for his honor and glory ^C as in this, nor more clearly demonstrating your love toward him and your burning zeal for our common Master.

For reflect, our son, on the evils of war, the painful things that befall men from it, and again, the good things of peace, and the enjoyment that blossoms for men from it. And comparing these, consider how much you will be the cause of honor and glory for him if, with God aiding, you serve him in this divine ministry, instead of wars, instead of slaughters, instead of captivities, and simply instead of the great destruction of men, so that he may be praised for the good things of peace and be glorified, rather than procuring the contrary through the evils that come from war. You will not need many words, nor will his beautiful and virtue-loving soul turn away your entreaty; only be eager, only be willing to urge him, and I am persuaded that you will see him ready and seeking the divine peace. I do not say this simply, but because I am persuaded by what ^D the lover-of-mankind God has brought about; for the authors of the war, and of such great murder, He has removed from the midst by judgments which He Himself knows to be just, having imposed a punishment worthy of and fitting for their great wickedness. For this reason, we have not thought it proper to extend our discourse further, nor to trouble you with the length of the letter, but we add only this prayer: may Christ our God—both by rewarding and glorifying him in this present life and the next through his having brought about peace, and by showing you, our son, to be yet more intimate with your own Master and loved by Him—deem both him and you, for such a commitment and zeal, worthy of eternal goods.

XIV. To Simeon Bulgarus.

My most desired son, and sweetest of friends both ancient and new, hear as a son

^A the words of a father who has loved you from the beginning, and who continues to love you and holds for you a genuine affection in the Holy Spirit. Attend, my son, to what we write, for we are persuaded in God that we are writing things that bring joy and comfort, confirming the name of friendship with deeds. Hear, I say again, as a man of God, to speak shortly, the good tidings that heal a soul beloved of God. For even if you were moved to anger by the worldly power of Satan, who stirred up scandals through those who strove against your nobility—the head to me—and you were disposed otherwise than is my prayer, I know precisely that you also grieved at the suffering of the Church, I mean at the tearing apart and the division of her children, and that you suffered with us and were held fast by bitter pains, honoring in this too Christ our God, from whom it was given to you both to rule and to be safe, and to whom in the age to come belongs the ^B salvation and honor that never ends, as we pray and hope.

We bring you tidings, my son, tidings that are most pleasant of all for you to hear, and most fitting and appropriate of all for us to announce. The Church of God is united; the storm of him who from the beginning maliciously attempted to disturb her has ceased; she is united, and how the storm has ceased! Those who had separated from us and clung to their own division have renounced their own way of thinking; they have repented of the things upon which they were contending, and they have come together by the grace of God to our way of thinking. What was sought by the Church has been commonly agreed to by them; and to speak shortly, confessing their own transgression, they came to the arms of the Church which were opened to them with philanthropy. ^C For until the present, the Church had closed her arms, according to human ways, because they themselves were disposed in a human manner, and I know not for what causes they had loved to contradict. But since all those things have been removed by the good pleasure of God, with divine peace intervening, we have come together into unity, and we have received those who until now were separated from us as if they were our own children, and we have been joined as to our own members. And finally, the Church of God has one head, the first high priest and our God, and us unworthy ones—yet nonetheless accounted worthy to exercise the high priesthood—and is knit together and directed without disturbance. Except for a few who, having the wherewithal to be known for a good manner of life, so as not to pass their lives anonymously, ^D and being puffed up by their own malice, have not feared, through their own separation, to attempt, as much as in them lies, to shake the unity of the Church. But it will not, in the end, be enough for them to have as head the great God and our supreme high priest, unless they join themselves to their own head, whether now or later; if they do not, it is no matter, for they will lie in the place chosen by themselves of their own accord. But the holy Church of God, freed from the cause that was disturbing her, maintains her own order in stability, giving thanks to Christ her bridegroom, both for being freed from scandals and for seeing around her own children standing, as many as—

^A those who from the beginning have despoiled man of his blessed intimacy, have now also been able to despoil the priestly fullness. These, my child, are the tidings by which I am persuaded your soul is gladdened, as much as by nothing else among those things which are known to afford gladness to men. But from this point on, who will be a helper to me in my speech? Who will be present, sharing in the discourse with me as I address a soul so humane and so sweet? And we shall remind you, God granting, not indeed that one has forgotten his own gentleness, but that it has been exacerbated by men—concerning whom I do not know what to say, except that they have devised poorly the affairs of the Bulgarians and Romans, whether moved to this from their own inclination or by an evil demon; they forced them to go beyond, for a time, and to settle into affairs which you yourself, my most humane son, never hoped, nor did we, nor anyone else who knows or has heard of your humane and most gentle soul. ^B For who ever, before these things came to pass, expected that Simeon—he who, because of great prudence and because he was beloved of God, led the Bulgarian nation to great glory, who hated malice if ever any man did, who honored justice and abhorred injustice, who surpassed pleasures, who restrained his belly no less than those who live in the mountains, who was untasted of wine, who differed in nothing from those who profess to live outside the world, except in the administration of the authority granted to him by God—who, then, would have expected that such a man, and so God-beloved a man, would involve the Romans and Bulgarians in the dire calamities that have now overtaken them, and in the infinite shedding of blood, and in such destruction—alas, the destruction of the churches of God, of the dwellings of virgins who often spared even breathing the air, of the monasteries of men where by night and by day God was hymned and glorified? ^C What need is there for me to speak of cities, of other lands, of houses, and of all that men occupy themselves with for the consolation of life—the other misfortune that has seized humanity: I mean widowhood, orphanage, the deprivation of brothers, captivity, slavery, and, in a word, instead of the former prosperity of the Bulgarians and Romans, this pitiable change into which the evils of war have brought them? These things were not done by enemies, nor by those who are outside the fold of the one true shepherd, Christ our God, nor by those who are strangers to the inheritance of the faith; but by whom? ^D Alas, alas for my own most grievous sufferings! Oh, the pathetic tale! To those who are parents in Christ, the children have become barbarized, and the sheep of Christ have become bestialized against one another; the heirs of the faith and co-heirs of the glory of Christ have waged war against each other. Who would ever have hoped—I say it again—that such sufferings and the reality of such calamities would overtake the Romans and the Bulgarians, before seeing them before one's own eyes? But indeed, my God-guarded child, if such things did overtake them—as I wish they had not—they overtook them through the malice of the wicked demon, they overtook them through the envy of him who envies all men, but most of all

^A Christians; for the devil is kindled with envy all the more against Christians, because he knows them to be his bitterest enemies, because by Christians he has been driven from all the world, and Christians even to this day humiliate his power, and the tyranny which he had wrongly built, they destroy throughout. For these reasons he rages against Christians; for these reasons he becomes of every sort, so that he may, insofar as he is able, requite them with grief and overwhelm them with calamities. These terrible things—and things beyond terrible—came, then, as I have said, from the malice of the devil; but they came also from men, some of whom were ministering to his malice, and others of whom were unfortunate in their wits and chose the worse rather than the better; these are they who have taken up war against you, whether by cooperating with the wicked demon, or by desiring this through some misfortune of their wits, and having thus disposed your sweet soul. For since it often happens that even a small spark kindles an inextinguishable flame, ^B so also the spark that fell from the folly of those men into your heart has kindled this great flame, and it has remained to this moment inextinguishable.

But come, my most longed-for son, let not evils conquer in this way; nor let a God-lovable man such as you—who have no equal in prudence among those of your own generation, and who are incomparable in nobility of soul—be overcome by malice, by common men who are not even worth a copper; and do not, because such men have embittered you, desire to hold an immortal bitterness against the Roman Empire, from which you know you have received many and great benefits. For what does it matter to the Roman authority ^C and to the people under its hand, if this or that nobody of no value has audaciously inveighed against you? What does it matter to the King, who is privy to nothing of this, if certain men, managing his affairs badly, have conceived this design against you? Yet you were grieved; you have exacted a sufficient penalty upon those who grieved you, or rather, a penalty far exceeding what is sufficient. For when anyone inflicts damage equal to that of the one who seeks to wrong him—unless he be excessively bitter—he has enough; but when he inflicts a far greater one, what room is there then for indignation and for the desire to grieve the one who grieved him yet more? And I am not speaking of someone who is gentle and humane, as you yourself are, but even whoever is inhuman and fierce will surely abandon all bitterness, ^D and will quench the fire of wrath, and will make a truce with the one who had so foolishly begun to lay wicked hands upon him. You too, therefore, my son, dismiss your wrath, and return to your own gentleness, and bring to an end the murders and other calamities which have, up to the present moment, beset Christians at the hands of Christians.

These things now, my most sweet son, I say to you by ink; but if Christ our God, the peace that surpasses all understanding, so disposes your mind by his exhortation that we may stand before you, and speak these things face to face, and if the situation demands any other thing, we shall be ready to come to you, and we shall not fear old age, nor infirmity, nor the labors of the journey, provided only that He wills it for peace

^A incline your virtue; show me therefore, if God has put into your mind that great and salutary matter for the Romans and the Bulgarians, so that I may come to you, in whatever place it is possible, and enjoy your most desired presence, and confer with you on the things that are suitable and advantageous regarding the peace and common settlement in God from this time forward; and make it clear by sending back those Roman apocrisiaries who have been detained, so that through their mouth, and at the same time by the letters of your hand, the report of your God-loving resolution may come, and thus we ourselves, with more certain assurance, might undertake the journey with a ready mind, even if the matter exceeds our strength due to the labors of travel, whether toward the south, or wherever else it shall please you for us to reach. And whatever things are profitable for the Romans and Bulgarians to say and to hear shall be said, by which the things of war will end, and peace shall be brokered; by which God will be glorified, and the devil and those who serve him will be put to shame; and your name will be magnified both in the present age and in the future; and the people handed over to your hand will live in tranquility and in the exemption from all evils, as will those serving under the empire; which, with God, was a teacher and leader for you unto salvation, and turning you away from your ancient customs, changed you to far better and more excellent ones, and gave you the occasion to glorify and exalt yourself, from which you are called the primary part of Christ. ^B

XV. To the same.

Your letters, my son worthy of God, having been received, we were filled with true and spiritual joy, and we have prayed—even though we are sinners—regarding how ready you were to come to the face of my humility, that you may be judged worthy to be a beholder of the face of our Lord Jesus Christ with a clear conscience, when He says to those worthy of that blessed voice: "Come, you blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." ^C This we have prayed for you and we pray, because you were ready to appear immediately upon our request for the manifestation of our wish; and may the same Lord of ours Jesus Christ, who is the peace surpassing all mind, the love, the truth, and our salvation, grant still more, throughout all the time and all the brief days of my humble life, that you may appear even now ready to consent to the words which we shall speak when coming to you, with the help of God who gives words of wisdom for the common happiness and tranquility of the Bulgarian and Roman race. But thus is the beginning of the letter, our son, starting for us from a holy prayer; as for the rest, which was also mentioned in the midst of the letter, for fear of being troublesome by the length of the words, especially since, God willing, we hope to speak to you face to face, we have considered it superfluous to write. ^D That only, as being necessary, we write: that we hope, God willing, face to face

^A to see you, my beloved and glorious son, and we cast behind us our old age, and we disregard the weakness of our nature, and the labors and sorrows of the journey, and we count all such misery as nothing, if only you provide us with the assurance that your honorable soul has been moved not to treat my toil with contumely, nor to reject the embassy which is being made to you, my son, by an aged and broken father, so that you would not turn it away or disregard it. I shall indeed perform an embassy for you also, my son, which is beneficial and not at all burdensome or intolerable to the Romans. If, therefore, as I said, I have in every way been moved—first by God, second by your own most prudent deliberation, and third, if there be any regard for me and our humility, by our prayer—I shall come to you, soaring in soul and body, having forgotten all things that burden my life and weigh heavily upon my old age. ^B

If, however, which we pray against, those former scandals (but may God forbid!) still remain in your mind, and those counsels and thoughts that made the Romans and Bulgarians miserable, and if you still hold in yourself the former attitudes concerning the Roman Empire, I set before you as mediator that very Messenger of the will of God and the Father, whom He announced to those who from the beginning were vexed by the soul-destroying demon, and by whose message of love for mankind He brought an end to the everlasting war, took away the middle wall of enmity, and gathered humanity into unity and peace. Him I set before you in supplication, the Lord of lords, the King of kings, and He who is over every dominion, that you make known to us your decision through the letters you will send back, ^C so that I may not endure toil in vain, nor, having arrived, utter empty words to my own shame and the ridicule of those who often love to attack and mock our affairs with biting words. You know, however, being prudent by the grace of God, how many men—alas for human misery!—are of such a disposition; and perhaps it may even be to the condemnation of your own most honorable soul. For to move an old man to no purpose, one who is weakened and an archbishop, though unworthy, and to bring him to your presence, and then to send him back having exhausted him with vain labor and fatigue, likewise giving cause for laughter to those who love to mock our affairs—see, my beloved son, whether this might not be a judgment upon you. May Christ our God keep you safe, ^D and protect you now from every evil, visible and invisible, and in the world to come grant you a share in His own rest and glory.

XVI. To the same.

Again, I am moved to write, my God-protected son, of necessity, partly because my soul is daily pricked by the sorrows over the evils and calamities of the Romans and Bulgarians, and partly because of that formidable punishment which we would incur if, although established as guardians, however unworthy, of men...

's salvation, we were unable to remain silent, lest that God—who, by judgments known only to Himself, has appointed us as watchmen—should require at our hands the blood of the slaughtered Romans and Bulgarians. ^A For this reason, even though we have been disregarded many times when we wrote, nevertheless we write again now, beseeching God, the author of all good things, to grant that you attend to our words today, and not cast them aside into neglect, as has happened with those that went before.

I write, however, my child, not as before merely entreating you for peace, but in another way, struggling and mourning for the evils that are about to be stirred up between the Romans and the Bulgarians. For again—alas for the malice of the evil demon!—armies are being prepared, and a movement of thousands of men is being gathered from every side, such as I cannot express in words. ^B And for this reason I groan and lament, foreseeing and perceiving how many grievous things will come to pass from such movement of the camps between the Romans and the Bulgarians, the conclusion of which is a common calamity for Christians and a bitter pain to Christ our God, who purchased the race of Christians for Himself as an inheritance through the blood of His holy side. For whether it should happen that the nation of the Bulgarians perishes, it results in sorrow to Christ our God; or if the Roman people, to whom the affairs of war pertain, should fall into destruction, and thus Christ our God, the head of all, should suffer on account of these things. ^C Furthermore, what expectation shall the causes of such great calamities have? What kind of life will they spend in the present existence, if indeed living remains for them? And when they depart to the future life, with what hope will they go there? How will they stand before the face of God? How will they endure the punishment reserved for them? What apology will they find? What pretext will they set forth for the destruction of so many Christians?

These things occupy me, my child, both day and night; for these reasons I am torn in soul, and being unable to be silent, I send you this letter. Consider, my son, acting worthily of your great wisdom, the shedding of the blood of Romans and Bulgarians, with which the earth was polluted when that most calamitous war arose between both nations. Remember what a calamity encountered the Bulgarians and Romans at that time, and do not wish to see such an abominable day again. Do not let it puff you up that the Bulgarians, even if many of them have fallen by the sword, were nevertheless victorious, while the Romans suffered defeat and the lesser share; for the works of war are not always ordained, but have an uncertain outcome and many vicissitudes on either side. ^D Do not, again, suppose that victory will be with you; but, being a man, consider human affairs as well. For many who stood, as they thought, in safety, have fallen in a terrible crash; and many who were lying low have arisen. Many who had conquered and seemed to be invincible, were suddenly conquered and have perished. I know that even without my words, being perfect in wisdom, you know these things; yet we write—not, however, as if you did not know them—but in order to present to me, my son, your understanding ears, or rather, [to present] to your ears a mind that is wise and beloved to me;

^A you will grant this by heeding my words, by listening to the words of a father who advises you in a fatherly and profitable manner—as we are confident in God—both for your own glory in the present life and in the life to come, in which glory is most desirable to those who truly long to be glorified. Do not desire to see the commotion of the present armies set in battle array against you, nor to see again a slaughter of Romans and Bulgarians involving many people, nor to see a renewal, as it were, of the disasters of that war, lest we arrive at a state of repentance when, perchance, it will be of no benefit at all.

^B It is the way of prudent men, and especially one who is as you are, to foresee the coming of evils and to secure themselves against them beforehand, rather than to cast themselves into the experience of them, as it were, with closed eyes. Do you desire glory, my son, wealth, and a brilliant name? It is possible for you, by obeying our words, not to fail in your desire. And pay attention to what we say: by judgments which God alone knows perfectly, He seated upon the throne of the empire—as you yourself, I think, have recognized—the lord Romanos. Enter into the bond of marriage with him, either by joining your daughter to his son, or by accepting his daughter as a bride for your son. And if this comes to pass, you will lack none of your heart's desires, insofar as they look toward appropriate glory and toward your own enjoyment, and that of the entire Bulgarian nation and the people subject to you. You previously sought to be allied by marriage to the Emperor, and your desire failed because of those to whom it seemed good to act in that way; now it is permitted for you to be honored with such an alliance. You desired to be joined in marriage with the Emperor of the Romans; now the opportunity offers itself to you of its own accord. And let it not seem to you a drawback that he was recently elevated to the throne, but consider the circumstances themselves: how, as if led by the hand by God, and as almost no other [has been], he was established as Emperor. Be more eager for such a union of our races; many have become emperors, but they possessed traits unworthy of the empire—yet this man, as I said, has come to such authority as though led by the hand by God.

^C If you wish also to take into your consideration with me the good state of the Church, you will see even more the benevolence of God toward this man; for your perfection knows how much labor the lord Emperor Leo endured, and then [those] who administered public affairs after him, but they did not see the end of their efforts because, as it seems, it was not the will of God. With this man, however, being established in the administration of public affairs, those long-standing scandals were dissolved, and the great storm and perturbation of the Church, in place of which [there is] tranquility and peace; and those who were fighting and at odds have, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, come together into unity. Whence else, if not from the divine Providence that assists us and has been pleased to bring this to pass in these days? We have added these points so that you may know that the scepter of the empire was not assumed without divine permission; and knowing such things, [you may know] what desire you conceived from the beginning.

to be allied to the emperor of the Romans, [you may] now, if you wish, see it fulfilled, and be truly united with the Roman empire. ^A And through such a union, all the hardships, all the lamentable things for the Romans and the Bulgarians shall be removed; and every ease and enjoyment, and whatever pleasure brightens this life, shall be abundantly bestowed upon both nations. For when your children are joined in marriage, we have confidence toward God that whatever is good and pleasant shall overcome you, and if any thing is contrary and grievous, it shall escape, the evil demon no longer having place, nor those men who imitate his wickedness, to do and effect their own works.

XVII. To the same.

If we have written many times to lament the common calamities that overwhelm the Bulgarians and the Romans, if we have also many times, my most beloved and glorious son, offered supplications and constant exhortations, and our words have not reached your ears, but have lain cast down upon the ground, and neither the old age of a humble and ^B sinful father could persuade you, nor ancient friendship, nor the dignity of the priesthood, which, though unworthy, we have been granted to bear, nor the most necessary of all things, the very matter on behalf of which we act as ambassadors, on behalf of love, on behalf of peace, on behalf of the stopping of the shedding and slaughter of Christian blood; yet, our son, along with your other virtues, being a student of the divine oracles, you are not ignorant of what the Lord said to his disciples: ^C “He that despiseth you despiseth me,” the succession of which has come down from him to us, useless as we are, by the counsel that God knows. But indeed, if I have so many times in vain supplicated concerning a matter so great and salutary for both Romans and Bulgarians, what shall I do? I am compelled to supplicate again, since I have been placed in such an order to be a mediator of peace, to reconcile those at variance with all my strength, to discern the scandals and the traps, and to report the injury arising from these to those who are being plotted against by the enemy.

Woe is me, if I do not think so, if I do not do this, if I do not bear this perpetual solicitude. I tremble at the threat which God and Creator has threatened to those who by Him have been placed into this high watchtower, ^D and for whom there is a danger proportional to the height. It seems to me, most pious son, even if I still move about in this perishable life, that I stand before that tribunal there, and am required to give an account of the ministry which I was commanded to minister; and I tremble at that fearful and inexorable sentence which awaits those who are too sluggish in recalling to the peace of Christ and our God those who have been carried off by the evil demon to enmity. For this reason I now also, weeping, write, and again approach with supplications before you; for, alas, with eyes

^A small and barely able to bear it, I perceive the future impending over the Christians, and I am wholly confounded by that abominable sight and those wretched events, which I pray to depart from the present life before I behold. For even to see the slaughter of but one man, whoever he may be who falls beneath the blade, is a pitiable sight. For how is it not pitiable that a man should be slaughtered by a man, one sharing in the same formation, one existing under the same nature, one fashioned from the same clay, one possessing the same Creator and guide of the present life, and who gathers the creature back again, when it pleases Him, equally for the life hereafter? But when those who slaughter and those who are slaughtered possess not only the communion of which we spoke, but are also fathers and children and brothers, and indeed the inheritance of Christ our God, who gave His own holy side's blood as this incomparable price, in order that He might purchase us and claim us as His own proper inheritance—when these take up arms against one another, when they defile the earth and their own hands with slaughters, what could one say? What Jeremiah will lament such sufferings? What tears will be rendered equal to so bitter a calamity?

These are the things which, I say again, move me to write and to entreat, because my heart is tormented as I ponder the meeting of future events; and I cannot remain silent, nor ^B continue in tranquility. For again there is a mobilization of armies, and an expedition from every side, and a gathering of countless people; which region, I do not know, will receive them, or what place will contain those assembled into one. Furthermore, there is no other leader over all these, not one fitted to govern such a multitude, but the Emperor himself with all his own retinue. For he is the leader of the war, he leads the armies, he takes up the weapons, and at once becomes a fellow-soldier and a co-combatant and an arbiter of the contest. Seeing such preparation, therefore, such mobilization, and so many myriad armies setting forth, what are we to think? What sort of soul must we have? I know well, my child, as your own understanding also knows, that the war is not determined, nor is it manifest with whom the victory will be, but the outcome lies in uncertainty. But this is not hidden: whether the Bulgarian race is to be consumed by the Roman blade, or the Romans are to be cut down by the sword of the Bulgarians, Christian blood is being poured out by Christians, and the earth is being defiled by the blood of Christians, and Christ and our God, whose peculiar people you and we alike are, and children and inheritance ^C, will be grieved by the destruction of those who are slaughtered. Or do you not think that this is the greatest pain to Christ and our God, whether Bulgarians or Romans perish by the sword? Who is ignorant? Who will not acknowledge that Christians rising up against one another strike a wound into the very midst of the heart of our Savior? ^D Let us take the example of a father who rejoices in many children;

^A how is he affected when, instead of peace and union, he sees them torn by enmity and plunging their swords into fraternal blood? Will he not change his joy into weeping? Will he not utter an ineffable lamentation? Will he not prefer that the earth should open up for him rather than to look upon the sun? Parents, therefore, who spared no labor in begetting us, suffer from necessity, as we have said, when they see their children taking up war against one another. But Christ, our God, who—in order to acquire us and make us His children—emptied Himself of the bosom of the Father, and partook of flesh and blood as we do, and endured the cross and death so that He might make us His sons—will He not be tormented with incomparable pain, nay, will He not be consumed with much more bitter grief when He sees His own children—I mean the Romans and the Bulgarians—so raging against one another, ^B both forgetful of such a Father and such sonship, and, in place of brotherly affection, having descended into a bestial and wild disposition? How could He not be more incomparably pained? With what ease, my most desired son—and if there be any name more sweet than this among men—could I derive an exhortation from human affairs, so that you might understand that when we take up arms against one another, we are doing things that every human being pursues with curses, and that we are regarded as accursed authors of such evils! For who is there—if he be endowed with prudence, if he be not ignorant of nature, if he acknowledges the Creator, if he is endowed with human nature simply and conceives human thoughts—who, if he were to see disciples of one and the same faith, worshippers of the same God, taking up ^C arms against one another (I omit here to speak of children warring against parents, parents against children, or brothers against brothers), would not conceive sadness, and would not utter every curse against those who have declined into such inhumanity?

Exhorted from human affairs, as I said, I could derive a great abundance of arguments that you might put an end to slaughter and war, and turn to that salvific and divine peace. But leave behind, my son, earthly and human things, and the exhortations and arguments derived from them; lift the eyes of your most piercing mind toward heaven and consider the powers who stand by Christ: how they are saddened, and how deservedly, ^D seeing the Lord weeping over the ruin of His people—for you and we are His people—over the ruin of our children and brethren. For, as a Father, He took us as His children, and as a Brother, He made us His co-heirs, and they become partakers in such great sorrow. What are you saying? Are our evils thus ascending even to heaven, through which the devil, a murderer from the beginning, was eager to strike and cast down the Romans and the Bulgarians? Do we not take up the reflection that is fitting for Christians? Do we not turn to ourselves? Do we not understand the evil machination of the wicked one, through which he harms us, and do we not awake to the correction of our own evils?

^A I had intended to extend this letter further; for a sorrowful heart is naturally accustomed to find relief and to be emboldened as it were from an oppressive burden through a lengthier flow of words. But as my discourse has already presented how the calamities between the Romans and the Bulgarians have reached even unto the heavens, I have understood that I should check the length of my speech. This alone I say, this I entreat, this I implore: grant me your ear, which you ought to have granted from the beginning; for then such great evils would not have occurred. But if not before, then at least in the present, grant me—I say it again, my most beloved son—your ear, and accept the counsel and suggestion of a humble father. We trust in God that you will not regret doing this; accept the supplication of a humble archbishop for the common good, seeing that he gives thought to the memory and the name by which you are to be glorified on earth and in heaven. Do not wish for that innumerous army once more to approach the borders of the Bulgarians, nor for fathers to draw swords against sons and sons against fathers, whom the all-holy Spirit has bound together with such bonds; nor let us wish to see that lamentable hour and day when the earth shall again be polluted with the blood of Christians. For as we said above, even if it is uncertain with whom the victory shall stand, this at least is not uncertain: that the earth will be besmeared with much blood, and showers of tears will stream from the eyes of Romans and ^B Bulgarians. Be persuaded, my child, by the counsel of a humble old man, who desires the salvation of the Bulgarians no less than that of the Romans, and who is no less zealous and solicitous for the happiness and tranquility of the Bulgarians than for the people over whom we have been allotted to be archbishop, and for whom we keep watch with unceasing care.

^C These things have been said by us to exhort and entreat your most prudent mind that you move not your arms. But we trust in God, from whom all power and all empire come, by whom eternal war is resolved and peace is given to the world, that He will speak to your heart what is wanting, and He Himself will instruct you in the good of peace, and will persuade you to return to the former union, and to love that life to which He has called you through holy baptism and regeneration, joining you as sons to fathers in the Roman race, and to hate the offenses that have crept in from the wicked one and all that arises from such offenses. Behold how much time this destruction ^D has wasted the Romans and the Bulgarians; I shall add this much more, and then I will cease: peace being established with God, make known to us what you desire from the Romans in return for the laying down of arms, whether it be tribute or anything else; provided only that what is sought be bearable, and not excessively heavy or beyond our strength. I shall perform every embassy, I shall make every supplication, I shall set in motion every device before the power that governs the affairs of the Romans, until your requests are obtained. But may the God of peace, who has broken down the wall of enmity for His own works, who from eternity...

has joined things that were separated, Himself now also establish in peace those whom the malice of the demon has set at war, and ^A in the unity which is in the Holy Spirit; and may He grant a participation in the good and pleasant things that spring from this, and deliverance from the harsh troubles and afflictions that arise from enmity and scandals.

XVIII. To the same.

He has come to us, my beloved son, he has come, even if somewhat tardily, the assurance of your love toward us; for you have assured our humility that you still preserve a disposition ^B becoming a son toward a father, who is indeed worthless, but who has longed for his son with a sincere and spiritual longing. For I, indeed, suspected, during the delay of our apocrisiarius, that we were despised by you as if we were of no account, and that that fervent love and affection of the Spirit was no longer preserved in you. But as it seems, we were the ones who were mistaken, while you, my sweetest son, were keeping the lamp of love unextinguished within yourself, and now you have shown that it is preserved through the sending of the letter and the apocrisiarius, and you have put our suspicion to proof. And I render thanks to God, my beloved son, that I was put to the proof, having fallen into such a suspicion, while you, ^C when God stirred your heart, as always, have now shown the brightness of your love. But the reception of your letter, my beloved son, so moved us, and brought us into the enjoyment of such sweetness.

But we will not hide this from you, my beloved son, that some sadness was mingled with the pleasure of your letter, and it did not allow our soul to rejoice purely over the letter. Why? Because we wrote to exhort your peaceful heart, that the scandals of the wicked one might cease, and the peace of old between Romans and Bulgarians might be renewed. And not just simply so, but that the matters might be declared to us by your God-given glory, ^D simply and clearly, through which peace would progress, and so that the request would not be impossible or unachievable, but such a one as would also benefit the Bulgarians, and not destroy the Romans; but you, our son, omitting to write about this, wrote in your letter mocking my old age, saying that you do not request impossible things; for you do not request the resurrection of the dead Bulgarians, but you seek things of which it is possible for the completion to proceed. And saying these things, you pointed to that, namely, that he who has already been raised by God to the throne of the empire should depart from it. And what is more impossible than this, my son? How can it have any reason, that one who by the judgments which God knows has received the governance of His great inheritance, should divest himself of this governance? Do not, my son, do not mock my gray hairs; for you know even without my words, that this request is impossible. Leave off, therefore, this,

^A nor think it possible to be accomplished; but turn to other requests, as many as have a nature that allows them to be fulfilled; such as, shall I say, a quantity of gold, of garments, or perhaps even a portion of land. Of these, if any divine thought of the peace of Christ revolves within you, make known to us what you will. I say, my child, this is equivalent to every gain, this is equivalent to every acquisition: the willingness to check the shedding of blood. For what is of such worth to a Christian man and one beloved of God, and especially one such as you happen to be, my child, as to accomplish this, and to gain a cessation of the slaughter, a stopping of the wars, a quieting of the shedding of Christian blood? ^B Yet, let there be, along with this great and incomparable gain, some other added gains, as I have already said: namely, a weight of gold, of garments, or the concession of a portion of land, such as might perhaps be useful to you but bring no intolerable harm to the Romans. Indeed, my child and man of God, turn your eyes toward this peace, shift your mind toward such a resolution, and leave behind those thoughts which contribute nothing to peace, but rather incite wars and slaughter.

Your letters mentioned as well the cause of all these evils: the eunuchs. That this is so is manifest and known to all. But what have we, my child, to do with the eunuchs? They, indeed, thinking very wickedly, disturbed and ruined as much the common affairs of the Romans, as they did the common love and concord of the Romans and Bulgarians. ^C But it is not right for us to partake in their malice; rather, it behooves your prudence and the consideration of the Romans to restore what they, through their imprudence, ruined. Did they act like madmen? Far be it from us to imitate their madness. Did they devise unjust things against you? You are not ignorant, my child, how that malice turned back upon their own heads. Be content with the judgment of God, and accept the vengeance which God has wrought upon them, and do not persist, by reason of their foolishness or—if you like—madness, in grieving the One who has avenged you. Or do you not think, my child, that you grieve Christ our God by such slaughter of His own peculiar people, His inheritance—the Christian race, I mean, the Roman and the Bulgarian? ^D Or do you not believe that the benevolent God laments over such a destruction of men, so many cities, so many churches, so many monasteries, over the ruin of all these things? I know, my child, that nothing of this escapes you; you will do well, therefore, and, just as you recalled in your letter, show the imitation of Christ our God honored here by you as well; and, casting into oblivion whatever you have been grieved by at the hands of the eunuchs, return to yourself and to your own gentleness and peaceful disposition, and turn into mourning for the wicked demon all the joy and exultation he derived from the common misfortunes of the Romans and Bulgarians; may the movement of weapons against brothers and fathers cease.

If, therefore, there is any thought from above in you, and a mind of Christ and our God, the peaceful and peacemak

⩝A⩝ the father of enmity, the devil, has dissolved, to be renewed again, write to us simply and clearly the conditions under which peace, God helping, may return; but do not write as you have written, things ambiguous and impossible—to wit, that he who has ascended the throne by God's command must descend from it. Furthermore, my son, send a man worthy of your glory, a lover of peace, a cultivator of truth; for from this place also, a man similar to him and worthy of the same esteem shall be sent, through whom the terms of peace may be clearly presented to your Majesty and to the Emperors of the Romans. And then, God being propitious, as we, though sinners, hope, peace will proceed; since, as long as obscure and ambiguous words succeed one another, nothing salutary or of common utility will be achieved. But if you truly revolve in your heart the desire for peace, my beloved son, enough has been said; but if this thought has once possessed your heart, that you are to be placed upon the throne of the Roman Empire, and if—I know not whence—you have gained that assurance (as you seem to have done) that this is pleasing to God, wait for it to be fulfilled in the way He knows and wills, and not by war and slaughter; for what has been ordained by God cannot fail to reach its end; therefore, if you believe this to have been ordained by Him, wait until it is granted to you by Him. Why do you drench the earth with blood, and that Christian blood? Why do you lay waste the churches of God? Why do you commit other acts which it is not even right for us to mention, my son, by which you both cause grief to God and make yourself liable to judgment? For the rest, let there be prayer here, which we offer to God without intermission: be safe, and think and feel those things which may call you back to the former peace, which was given to Romans and Bulgars through holy baptism; and whatever incites to war and slaughter, cast these out, along with the wicked demon who is their author, from your venerable and wise soul. ^D

XIX. To the same.

My beloved son, when our apocrisiarius—that is, the monk sent by our humility to you—had returned with your letters, and having reported in his own language whatever he had to tell us, we wrote back whatever the words required and your letter demanded, and it was sent to your God-honored authority through the same monk. But he, as we suppose, has reached Bulgaria and is staying there; and as for you, having set out to those regions, we do not know when it will be given to both of us to meet, and for you to know what was written by us and brought by him. For this reason, there was need of the present letter, and we write, my son, exhorting your, as before, wise soul to cease the shedding of blood, and to extinguish the conflagration of enmity which the parent of enmity, the devil, kindled from the beginning, in order to confirm between Romans and Bulgars the blessed peace which Christ, God and Savior, left as an inheritance to Christians.

^A And may it be written and made known to us, if your God-beloved soul has indeed been entreated towards the renewal of peace, not again those things which were previously reported as being impossible and unattainable, but those things which are possible and not obstructed from reaching their end. Have pity on the tearing of our heart, which, lo, ^B at every hour does not cease to rend us.

What then is it that I say? Do not declare that he who has ascended to the throne of the empire must abandon the empire, for this is impossible; do not write that you must be accepted as king and lord by the princes of the Roman empire and the people, for this is impossible to come to pass, and no one would endure to hear this word, let alone accept it. But write, instead, to receive a quantity of gold, garments, or even the concession of a portion of land, as much as is possible to benefit the Bulgars and not bring unbearable damage upon the Romans. Yes, my child and man of God, look towards such a peace, turn your mind and thoughts to such a matter; omit those things which contribute nothing to peace, but rather incite to wars and slaughters. Let the sighs and tears cease, which Romans and Bulgars have poured forth until the present—alas for my sufferings—and which even now continue to be poured forth. Yes, my beloved son, and most beloved of friends, be ashamed of the petition made by us for such a long time, and fear the torment of our heart which, for four years now, night and day, or rather at every individual hour, does not cease to gnaw at us. ^C

I write these things, and let God himself be witness that I am no less concerned for the salvation of the Bulgars and for your glory than for that of the Romans and those who have been allotted to rule over them. If therefore you are thinking about this salutary peace, my son, write things that are clear and unambiguous; and certainly, if there should be need of it, I myself will come to you, provided that you come to Heraclea or Silymbria, and I will confer about peace, and speaking with God, I will grant whatever possible things you may ask. And again peace will be renewed, and parents will be disposed toward children, and children toward parents, as is proper, enjoying the good things of love and living a life exempt from the most grievous calamities, which the father of enmity, the devil, and the most destructive sowing of his scandals has generated. For the rest, let there be added by us a prayer, which we bring at all times, even without your knowledge, to God: that you may be safe and fluttering above the snares of the evil one, so that you may show yourself an heir of the eternal kingdom and happiness, and may be able to stand secure at the fearful judgment seat of Christ and our God.

XX. To the same.

I was hoping, my most glorious son, upon receiving your letters, to find relief from the pain by which I am tormented, and consolation for the sadness which night and day...

^A anguishes me. I thought, indeed, that if I could not previously move your mind by the things so often written by me, I might move it today, for the reason that I have decided to come to you, despising my old age, my infirmity, and the labors of the journey, and that you would be moved and would receive me as I entreat you, and would not endure to turn away the journey I have made to you in vain; but rather that my arrival to you would become a cessation of the scandals of the wicked demon, which he has striven to cast between the Romans and the Bulgarians. I hoped for these things not simply in this way, but also with a reasonable cause preceding them; for I reflected within myself that I was coming as an ambassador and bearing a petition, not to a man like many men, but to a man who had received from God authority over a nation, and for this reason was great in judgment, great in understanding, and knew well how to discern what our presence is: for if I am a sinner, I am nevertheless an archbishop, ^B and the father of such a people, of such a city, of such power—even if I be unworthy— whom Christ alone, in His own place on earth, has willed to rule. I thought, therefore, that in coming to such a man I would fulfill an embassy, procure a common good, and restore the peace lost first by the machinations of the demon and then by the malice of men; and that afterwards I would return with joy, giving thanks to God, and proclaiming your virtue to all, and extolling ^C it with praises, if the speech of a humble old man and archbishop chanting your praises is worth anything; and that I would myself report, on my own part, the profit which I value the most: the concord and peace of the Romans and Bulgarians as it was from the beginning.

Now, however, your letters do not promise me these things, but as much as I understand from your words, my labor will be in vain, I shall obtain nothing of that for which I have decided to undertake the labor, your favor will not meet me, nor will my beloved son be moved by a father’s old age, nor will he ^D respect the presence of a humble archbishop, but will consider that I differ in nothing from the rest of the legates standing around. And then, wishing to receive me thus, to honor me thus—most beloved son—as your father, as your archbishop, as an old man, you invite me to come and exhort me to despise my old age and the labors and difficulties which might arise for us from the journey. What shall I say to these things? What shall I think? Who has ever been seen, a son announcing to a father: "Come to me, father, that I may despise your words; come, that nothing of those things which you ask may be accomplished, that you may appear to have undertaken labors in vain?" I have not heard until today a son announcing such words; I say again, son: is it worthy of your great soul, of your admirable prudence, to announce to a father: "Undertake vain labors, father, and come to your son, that, frustrated in your hope, you may be a mockery to all who hear?" I omit here, moreover, what will be yours, my son—what, namely, the inhabitants of the whole world will say when they hear such things; but what an admirable and overly praiseworthy discourse which

^A you have taken up! But the logic, too, with which you urge us on, and incite us toward the path, is marvelous and highly praiseworthy. For you say that the apostles, running toward uncertain outcomes and not knowing what would come to pass, nevertheless ran and labored for the sake of the reward from above. I love your exhortation, my dearest son; for by the things you say, you acknowledge that we, too, in imitation of them, desire to labor in accordance with the will of God. For how else shall the reward be laid up for us, if our labor is not in accordance with the will of God? For just as the labor was pleasing to God for those men, because they labored according to His will and received the reward from Him; so, too, our labor—if we are to receive a reward for it from God, as you wisely acknowledge—is altogether in accordance with the will of God. ^B Are you not, then, afraid of our labor, which God accepts as being done according to His will? For how else, if this were not so, would He bestow a reward for it? By not accepting it yourself, nor honoring it as is fitting, nor granting the peace of accord through which we labor, you treat those who labor in vain. And how is it reasonable that God should accept my toil, and in return for it give a gift from His own goodness, while you, who are a lover of God, my son, do not run in harmony with the divine will, but think the opposite? And how can you despise, as vile and of no value, that labor of ours, which He, because it is done for Him, does not leave without reward? Consider whether this is worthy of a pious mind, and whether it does not come from elsewhere than from your own truly prudent sense: for you said, and you said well, that to the apostles who were laboring, the reward was given by God, even if certain ones to whom they went could not sometimes be persuaded. ^C But who were the ones who were not persuaded? Tell us this, too. You will certainly say that all those who did not know that the labor of the apostles was in accordance with the will of God did not consider them worthy of reward, but rather of punishment and chastisement; and for this reason they persecuted and punished them. But he who confesses that we are going to receive a reward confesses, first of all, that God accepts us as we labor, and for this reason gives the reward. And if God accepts my toil, and rewards it in His just judgment with the wage of the reward, do you, being a man, not accept it? ^D The Master of heaven and earth does not disdain our labor—for how, if He disdained it, would He render the reward? And do you, though you rule over as many people as are subject to you—and in a little while, set apart from all men, will stand before the Master of all—do you make light of our toil? And where is this fitting to your intelligence, or to your love for God, or to the other reputation of your ways that is bruited about? We say these things not to overturn your proposition, my son, but to remind you and to give you a prudent opportunity to become more prudent; I want you, my beloved son, to attend still to the discourse, and just as you listened heartily to our words when we were present, so too to the discourse

^A you should guard that mindfulness. Yet we do not think you are ignorant of what we are about to write; rather, we suspect that you know these things even without our words, as I hold you to be a man of study, and one who takes the same care in reading the histories of the ancients.

But even if you are not ignorant of them, nevertheless, I add these things as if for one who knows, by way of reminder. Arcadius held the Roman scepter, and that man Gainas was at that time devastating this very land with an infinite multitude, burning and taking captives—just as you do—covering every place wherever he might go with that multitude; and there was no way to lift hands against him, no more than one could against thunderbolts sent down from heaven. As, therefore, embassies of the King were going to him amid such affairs, he would stop up his ears and decline every word, being a man unbending and implacable. For the passion by which he was moved contended within him, and he was unrestrained in his slaughters and murders, just as you are. The high priest of God was grieved at this, and his soul was rent, as ours are, worthless and humble as we are; this man was John, ^B surnamed Chrysostom. Grieved, therefore, he devised a thing which was mocked by many: for he determined to deliver himself up on behalf of all, to come before Gainas, to soothe that untamed soul, and to try to extinguish the inextinguishable fire of his wrath with the dew of his words. The high priest indeed devised this, but many, as I said, laughed. For who could hope that the impulse of Gainas, the movement of that myriad multitude, could be restrained by a naked man, carrying nothing else but the exhortation of his words? Nevertheless, he arrives at the man, and he does nothing else but simply embrace him, saying these things: "Be content, man, with the evils committed until now; cease from watering the earth with human blood, and consider that after a short time you are to be hidden in its bosom; you were appointed leader of a people, not that you might lead them to murder, but that you might provide for their salvation. Why do you drive your forces toward a foreign land? Be content with the land given to you by God. Why do you seek to seize ^C what perhaps you will not safely possess? Leave the Roman territories, having attained worthy hospitality, and return to your own home." Gainas saw the high priest, heard his words, and was immediately awed, and he abandons his savage and inhuman disposition, and becomes of human gentleness, stops the shedding of blood, being content with the evils that had preceded, and comes to an agreement of peace with the King, taking hold of the feet of the high priest, and having been treated as generously as was fitting, he returned to his own home.

I know that you know these things, and I am grieved that I must speak such words to a man who knows them and has the power to teach others what is good. Yet I thought it necessary to write, so that both from the knowledge you possess and from what we say, you might return to yourself, and setting that Gainas before your eyes ^D and considering

^A whether it is fitting for your illustrious nobility to be seen falling short of him in this matter. For he did not need a second embassy, but once addressed, he obeyed the archbishop, threw down his arms, and ceased the war, not thinking it becoming to give way to anger or, like a wild beast, to be carried away by his own impulse, but rather he held back that soul-destroying impetuosity as if with a bridle by the peaceful words of the archbishop; whereas we, intending to come to you after so many preceding entreaties, received the answer that we would obtain nothing more by our presence than we had even when praying from afar. What do you say, my most honored son, most sagacious of men? ^B You who above all others possess a desire for glory, will you endure to be outdone by the moderation and gentleness of Gainas? Will you altogether allow yourself to be convicted of being inferior to him? I blush and am confounded on your behalf; do you not, moreover, consider the censures of men, when your majesty comes into judgment, whether in your lifetime or after death, among those who shall know the histories? For who of the Romans or the Bulgarians in time to come, hearing of such a narrative—that, when scandals had occurred between Romans and Bulgarians, an aged archbishop had set out to undertake an embassy to put an end to the war and to recall both nations to their ancient peace, but the lord of the Bulgarians did not deign to receive the embassy—who, hearing this, will not accuse you, who will not say those things which I would not say? ^C May God forbid; but they will certainly say even more, once the fear of speaking about you vanishes, each according to his own judgment; seeing that even now, not to say all, but many, as we hear, of your own people, of your own race, censure this ceaseless war and groan over what has been done.

I am conscious that I have spoken more than is fitting; but what am I to do? Although unworthy, I have been appointed by God as a mediator of peace, a teacher of peace. And as long as I draw breath, it is necessary for me to speak these same things without ceasing; especially now, when children are raging against parents, and brothers against brothers, and slaughtering one another; ^D when the one body of Christ and our God, as if forgetting the head to which it has been joined, rises up against itself, and imitates the insane who devour their own limbs; therefore, for the sake of you, my old and new friend and son, even if I should not persuade you, even if I should be rejected, I persist in my speech; I pray that you may act in this present life in such a way as to exempt you from all censure and cause you to be numbered with the saints in that blessed life. Your letter also made mention of an exchange, and as I went through that part of the letter I wept profusely, because the devil has been so powerful as to make Christians trade Christians; just as if the one body of a man, moving against itself, should demand an exchange of its own limbs; what do you say? How do you think our head, Christ our God, is affected by all this? I think he is tortured more by these present things than he was on the cross.

Since such miserable and wretched circumstances have overtaken the Romans and the Bulgarians, and to such an extent has the evil one grasped power—and since there is no other way, even with peace intervening, for every Bulgarian or Roman to return home in a friendly and brotherly manner—if the evil has, as I said, gained such a hold that it is impossible for all whom the wickedness of the devil has driven from their homes to return simply through a friendly and brotherly reconciliation, then ^A you surely require such an exchange as the judgment of the combatants permits. Fearing God and respecting the men of future generations, the Roman government does not refuse. This exchange will, therefore, certainly proceed according to the laws governing the establishment of exchanges; it will be necessary for some of you to come here and for some Romans to go to you, so that, once a common deliberation has occurred regarding how the exchange of those who are to be exchanged ought to take place, such an exchange may be made in a manner that is honorable and advantageous to both Bulgarians and Romans.

XXI. To the same.

We have written to you often, our child, and how shall I say it—because of our sins, it has not befallen us to enjoy the fruits of our words. Often we have sown into the soil of your heart, my most beloved son, and again I say that because of our sins we have not reaped ^B the fruits we desired; yet I will not keep silence in despair because of this, but I write again, holding a better hope and placing my confidence in God that I shall reap something salutary and useful. May the Author of every good thing come to our aid, bringing this hope to fulfillment, bestowing benefit both upon me and my spiritual son from those things which my paternal letters address. Your letter prompted me to write, as from the very beginning I understood it to express that you had imitated divine indulgence; for you say that, following the example of God, you did not repulse a humble and lowly man, but deemed him worthy to speak with you in person, and therefore sent the letter to me. Because, therefore, of that message of your indulgence, I have turned to writing to you, revolving in my mind that your soul, taking on humble thoughts and looking toward ^C the indulgence of God, will forgive anything grievous it may have suffered from anyone, and having put aside all bitterness and strife, and having admitted reason as is fitting, will listen kindly to one who proposes what is useful and salutary. And so, a soul that has once acquired an humble mind and looks toward the imitation of God will let go of everything painful that it has suffered from someone, and will empty its heart of bitterness, and will put aside contentiousness ^D and, when presented with appropriate thoughts, will listen kindly even to others who suggest what is useful and salutary.

Therefore, because of such things we write as we do; and if any benefit comes of it, we shall give thanks to Him who has so disposed your prudent soul, and has led you to accept the salutary exhortations of a vile and sinful archbishop and Father; but if

we do not profit by it, even so our task is performed and we fulfill what is owed. As for your part, my son, consider—as a prudent man—if this be blameless before God and irreproachable before men. But the beginning of the letter is fine; imitating the humility of God, you have brought a base man before your face, ^A nor did the magnitude of your authority overwhelm you, nor did you deem yourself unworthy to converse with your own mouth with one who falls incomparably short of the magnitude of your glory. This is commendable, and it was consequent and fitting that the rest of the letter also be interwoven with this same humility, and not deviate from the imitation of God, as you say. But now, the parts of the letter that follow have the character of something else: not of humility, not of kindness, not of philanthropy, but of some other disposition. ^B Alas for the wicked demon who has envied those who are good from the beginning, and who always strives to mix his own malice with the good. And your letter, my son, revealed to us many convolutions, turning now this way and now that. For this is the intention of the devil: that you not be content to remain with the things that were given to you from the beginning, but that you strive to invade the possessions of others—and whose are they? Of the Fathers who begot you, and by the privilege of empire placed every nation under their feet; and there is no nation, from the time the power of the Romans became known, that has not bowed the neck to it. ^C You desire peace. The word is fine, but show the deed to be consistent with the word. Peace does not covet the things of others, nor does it lay hold of things that do not belong to it, nor does it lift its hands to arms, nor does it provide excuses for wars, nor does it rejoice in the shedding of blood, nor does it know how to make men captives. If you desire such peace, may Christ our God—who poured out His own blood for the peace of the world—fulfill your will, or rather fulfill the common will of both Bulgarians and Romans; but if you do not look toward this peace, what is the profit of the word, when affairs are hostile? ^D Lay down your arms; let there be an end to the shedding of blood, to the calamities of the captives, to the tears of orphans and widows, to the desire to covet, to the wish to rule over the possessions of others. Let these things come to pass, and thus a peace pleasing to God shall be granted. But to speak of holding in subjection those Fathers who, after God, liberated you from the slavery of darkness—how is this of peace? Is it not rather [a work] of those most hostile of all, who have never known peace? But you say, my son, that this comes from the will of God. How long will you, a prudent man, hearken to the lies of deceivers? How long will you allow those who love to speak from the spirit of the evil one to pour their wickedness into your ears? This, my son, is not true, nor does God will this, but the devil—the murderer from the beginning—who always rejoices in seditions, in battles, in wars, in homicides, and in whatever other evil is found in the vain life of men

entered in, between fathers and children, whom not blood and flesh, but the all-holy Spirit proved to be sons and fathers. For God did not make death, but the guile of the devil and human desire irrationally following that guile, from which also the harsh things now happening have come into being. For if corrupt and deceitful men had not deceived your prudent soul, and turned you away from the habit of life and discipline of your fathers, you would not have desired to war ^B against Christians, being a Christian yourself; nor, while professing to be pious by the grace of God, would you have dragged pious people into captivity; and to speak simply, you would not have reduced houses and regions, in which the divine name of Christ was glorified, to a wasteland. But as I said, it is the envy of the devil and of those men who imitate his malice that have caused these harsh things to erupt.

But in your letter you wrote that you do nothing except out of love for concord and peace. The works of the good Spirit are concord and peace; but the things you are doing are works of the evil spirit. No one who seeks peace sets traps for the man with whom he desires to remain in peace; no one who wishes to have someone in concord with him stains his hands with the slaughter of that person, but rather serves him, loves him, and contends in every way to bring about his ease. Your actions are not of this kind, therefore they are not the actions of those seeking concord and peace, but rather of those who are instead hostile and fighting, and who do not even know what peace is at all. We write these things, our child, not teaching you as one who is ignorant, but because through such words, I do not know whom the letter seems to be deceiving. But answer me ^C as I ask. If someone, either a brother or one of your own children, were to come along, acting in every way so as to seize your lordship and the rule of the nation, and then were to say: "I am doing these things and contending for the sake of being in concord with you and of living in peace," would you accept this from him as such a choice, or would you drive him out of the whole country in every way as a conspirator and an enemy? And who is it that has attained to this? Do not, therefore, wish to be "in concord" with such a mindset, nor seek such "peace"; for to appropriate what belongs to others, and to desire to encroach upon what does not befit one, is of tyranny and an antagonistic disposition, but not of concord ^D or a peaceful state. As for the need to bring up blackbirds and monkeys and magpies, I do not know for what purpose that has been proposed to you. For man is an image of God, and by imitating the divine virtue, he becomes superior to all malice, and as much as is possible for man, he becomes god, and for this reason he has been created by God; but those animals you mention, even if they show some imitative quality regarding humans, they do not relate at all to human matters; for they are neither capable of taking up human virtue, nor can they be called man in any way, just as man receives from God the title of "God" through progress.

Nevertheless, our child, this example, if from the preceding things

^A you wish to consider it, suggests similar things. For if Christians are known by this, in keeping the ordinances of the apostles and in loving peace, then cast away your arms, lay down warfare, wash your hands clean of Christian blood, return to your ancient state, acknowledge your fathers and brothers, taking up again the disposition that the kinship in the Spirit desires, and abandon that mind which the envy of the devil and the wickedness of men have fashioned. This is peace, most truly, which error cannot remove—namely, to put an end to wars, to inhibit the shedding of blood, to live content with the wealth and honors which, with God providing, you have received from power and from your fathers, to preserve the boundaries established by your fathers, and the peace agreed upon between the Bulgarians and the Romans when you came to the knowledge of Christ and God. If we think in this way, in truth not even the devil himself, moved with all his army, will be able to overturn our peace toward you. Yes, but you say, "It is the will of God that you receive the Roman power." These are dangerous calculations, an unseemly notion; uncertain is the end to which it will lead. Many, not content with what they have at present, but reaching out for greater things, have lost even what they previously possessed. Thus are human affairs: slippery, unstable. Unless God has willed otherwise, it is fitting for a man who trusts that he will receive something from God to await the judgment of God. Only from Him will he obtain what is hoped for, not by rushing into slaughters, ^B killings, or other things which God hates. For against whom would you thus aggress? Not against nations ignorant of God, alienated from Christ, and hostile to you, but against fathers, against brothers, against people who were placed to take thought for you as for their own children. Against such men you have undertaken war in a barbaric manner, seizing the resolve to stand in arms and to usurp the empire through the shedding of Christian blood, thus attempting the impossible.

We had it in mind to weigh every single point of your letter; but after I understood its verbosity to tend toward one and the same end, which you have proposed to yourself from the beginning until now, it did not seem opportune to answer each of the written points individually, lest instead of a letter we appear to be writing a book, tiring you out with an excessive abundance of words without utility. Therefore, ^C desisting from writing at too great a length, I shall say only this: Remember, O my child, those ancient days when, bound by the bond of the Holy Spirit, you used to live in the love of your father and emperor, as a beloved son. Remember that good and holy peace between the Romans and the Bulgarians, the sweet fellowship, the tranquil life, when God was glorified with one soul and mind, with Bulgarians and Romans glorifying the all-holy name; when the devil and the demons with him, seeing your salvation, your brotherly love, your pious and holy manner, would mourn and lament; when, ^D as the Bulgarians entered their own land, the Romans would receive them with joy and kindness, and you would delight those arriving in Roman lands with gladness and exultation.

^A Reflect upon these things, our son: that common joy, that spiritual and blessed pleasure which the Romans and Bulgarians of that time enjoyed, because of which the devil raged, because of which he went about sad, downcast, and distracted, and devised every manner, pursuing every path to confuse and disturb that thrice-desired way of life—in which he prevailed, alas for such unconquerable wickedness!—just as he had planned. But let it not be granted to the wicked one to boast any longer, nor to dance over the discord of the Bulgarians and Romans. Rather, as one who is sensible and prudent, dismiss the thoughts that hold you, stop your ears to those who suggest wicked counsel, become yourself again and return to the virtue that becomes you. Return to the ancient peace, return to the gentleness and mildness of your own thoughtful soul. Let the sighs and tears of the Romans and Bulgarians, which Satan caused, turn back upon that very inventor of wickedness himself; let him go away again, wailing and beating his breast over the peace and God-pleasing unanimity of those whom he had been able to divide through evil machinations. Over all these things, our son, let us contemplate the judgment from above, and the awesome Judge, and the standing of all together before the fearful throne, for neither king nor magistrate nor private citizen is distinguished, but we shall all stand naked and exposed, having not only our deeds, but also our thoughts and our conscience standing for examination, when even the heavenly powers themselves shall be seized by trembling and horror.

^C Let us reflect on these things and cease from those works which, up to this day, grieve Christ our God, while preparing the demons who envy our salvation to rejoice; and let us strive for the correction of where we have stumbled, and not wish to persist, because we were caught up in the evils already committed. Let us not await the final day, when, even if we should wish to think on something good, we shall be able to do nothing, with the soul distracted and looking only toward the departure from the body, and anxious about what it is destined to suffer from those standing by then. Oh, the fearful sight, for the heavenly angels and wicked demons to examine and scrutinize! Let us not depart from this present life in such a state, because it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God; nor may it happen that we hear that painful sentence upon those who depart from this present life having sinned without correction, when there remains no longer any expectation of repentance, nor of the mercy of the impartial Judge; nor does the sentence have an end, but it remains eternally, miserably punishing and tormenting those who have fallen into it.

^D The letter also spoke concerning the sending of apocrisiaries. It was indeed, our son, whom we have loved, something simple and void of suspicion to send those whom you retain, and through them—

to explain what is fitting; or if not the two, at least the one of them with a man of yours, and then others whom you might wish to request could have been sent. But now, because those who were previously sent are being detained by you, it allows no room for others to be sent out. If truly Christ our God, the mediator of peace, has instilled holy thoughts concerning peace in your soul, let those who are being detained be sent back—or one of the two, with a man of your most glorious authority—and once they arrive and deliver the considerations entrusted to them, then those whom you might permit shall be sent out, to report what is from our God-crowned Emperor and the Senate. ^B

XXII. To the same.

We were grieved, most longed-for son, not to have received a letter from you, and as was natural, we surmised that we had come into contempt with you, and that for this reason you did not deign to write to us. For what else was it necessary for me to suppose? For it is not possible that a son who pursues his father with devout love, having received a letter from his father, should not in return send back letters of his own. Nevertheless, O my son, even if you did not deign to write to us, we write again, not in the least altering our fatherly love for you due to any misapprehension, but rather preserving our relationship toward you, and the disposition fitting for a father toward a son. ^C

We have read the letters written to the Emperor, and we have understood in them your good intention, and that it has been determined by the good pleasure of God that your humane and most gentle soul should be of such a mind: that wars might cease, slaughters end, the shedding of blood be calmed, and the peace between the Romans and the Bulgarians be renewed once again—that peace which Christ our God, the common Father and Lord of all, indeed gave, but which the man-killing devil from the beginning strove to break, and instead of that inheritance, to cast the Bulgarians and Romans into affairs from which, in the present life, great hardships and destruction have arisen, having no change for the better. We therefore give thanks to God who inspired such an intention in your excellent prudence, and who has granted that the Romans and Bulgarians might rejoice together in the salutary fruits of peace, for the glory of His own name, and for your honor, most beloved son of constant memory, and to the confusion of the devil, who by his malice for so many years has stirred up Christians against Christians, friends against friends—in a word, brothers against brothers, sons against fathers—to the point of madness. We beseech God and your own excellent conscience that these counsels of peace, as they now seem to be emerging, may receive strength from the light of your heart even to the end. Since, however, O son, your letter indicated that a man had been sent through whom the conditions of peace were made known to you, so that nothing is left for us in uncertainty, the man we sent is one of our sons, who has lived with us from a tender age, has been nurtured by us, and has been deemed worthy of the angelic habit, who at our humble hand received the archipriesthood. ^D

^A And simply, such is this son of ours, that as though we had him before our eyes by night and by day, we possess spiritual joy in him.

Him, then, since you requested it, we have sent as a man faithful and knowing how to utter nothing outside of the truth, that you may learn the whole truth from him simply and without guile, so that those who have been allotted to rule, and their entire senate, may know how you will, ^B with God, attain the peace that is to be, and have taken counsel, and are about to bring that counsel to effect, unless you yourself, our son—which God forbid!—should conceive of some other impediment that might arise against peace. But these things are not of such moment. Yet we adjure you by the Lord, God, and King of all, neither to detain him nor to grieve our old age by his detention, but to converse with him about the peace for fifteen days as you wish; and when the fifteenth day has passed, to send him back to us free, unharmed, and without injury. ^C Yea, my son, be moved to respect for him by the Creator of heaven and earth, and by our humble affection for you. We add, if you will, the liturgy which we celebrate while standing at the altar of God; and truly our humble old age as well, and do not grieve us. In the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the Trinity who is the Creator of all, we lay this bond upon you: do not force us to grieve continually on your account and to cry out to God, so long as we continue in this life and consider the vanity of human affairs.

XXIII. To the Same.

I wrote to your excellency before, ^D our son, and by writing I provided assurance to your prudence, that I was not speaking for the sake of the harm of the Romans, but for the sake of the common salvation of the Bulgarians and Romans. And perhaps at that time I seemed to you to speak things that were unbelievable; but now I write still holding the same purpose, and having the same concern for each race, I mean the Bulgarians and the Romans; that, if possible, that which ought to have come to pass from the beginning, but did not happen through the malice of the demon, might at least now receive its beginning. What is this? I speak of the great business of peace, which is acceptable to our Christ and God, and will be for the benefit of those who until this present day have passed their lives miserably and wretchedly; I speak of the cessation of the shedding of blood which is perpetrated by Christians against Christians. And I wrote these things formerly, as I said, with grief of heart, and now I write again with a sharper sting of pain. Whence now I am stung with a sharper point, hear from me, O beloved son. The strongest agitation, from which the emperors have meditated against the power of you and your race, has either been prepared, or will be prepared, of the Rhoxolani, and at the same time of the Pechenegs, and of the Alans, and of the western

Turks, all of whom have been of one mind and have taken up war against you. ^B When these things reached my ears, I was completely confounded, and I became full of tears, and I reproached the few and evil days of my life, that my life had been prolonged for me until the occurrence of such things, and for the pain that invades the heart from them, and that I had not died before these things had happened, and before I had heard the words that were said about them. Meanwhile, I did not hesitate to say to our Christian emperors what my compassion urged me to say, and I am writing to you what I burned to write. What I said to those who by the grace of God are allotted to rule over the Roman race, and what I implored, and how much exhortation I made, was this: that they should restrain the movement of those nations against you, and be longsuffering, even regarding all the grievous things they have endured at your hands; and that they should not be so stirred by bitterness of soul and by indignation—perhaps justly—at the Bulgarians, showing such vengeance as to permit in every way those who in name are called (as we are) by Christ and God to be destroyed, even if they have been made enemies and foes by the baleful designs of the devil, though they are brothers and children. Such things, and others which it is superfluous to put in the letter, I said to our God-loving emperors, and their benevolence and gentleness immediately attended to my words, and they did not contradict nor did they contend with us about providing help to the Bulgarians who had so encroached upon the Roman power; but on the contrary, they seemed completely inclined toward the peace requested, and they answered me thus: ^C “O father and shepherd of the flock of Christ, we have not failed to take into account how many grievous things we have suffered from the Bulgarian race. Yet we do not reckon the blood of our own people shed by them, nor the other calamities as many as our people have accepted at their hands, at the instigation of the devil, and the aggressions by which we have been harassed for such a long time up to the tumult of those nations which are now attacking them, or those which may occur for so many years in the future. But since you have had the mind to invoke our imperial power on their behalf, send to the king, if you wish, someone who may seek peace in place of war and slaughter; and we, to your prayer, if you have persuaded him, will not be adversaries.” These are the things which, captivated by the desire for peace, they kindly and beautifully answered to our prayers. As for the rest, I add my exhortations to you, my son; and, as at the beginning, I write this now also with groaning and lamentation: attend to the good of peace and the salvation of your race; do not remain in the worst envy; do not prefer slaughter, the shedding of blood, and the carnage of spouses and children, or the devastation of lands, to the noble and most pleasant benefits which will come to the Romans and Bulgarians through peace.

^A Know, for I say it again, if I have understood anything of the imperial movements against you, that no nation will cease from stirring up destruction against you—neither the Turks, nor the Alans, nor the Pechenegs, nor the Russians, nor the other Scythian tribes—until they have completely exterminated the Bulgarian nation. And I have no way of convincing myself to look upon this as a matter of doubt, for their daily, zealous consideration will surely be translated into action. For if I saw that your affairs were proceeding with justice and in accordance with the will of God, I might perhaps have felt doubts regarding the zeal and the power of the emperors against you, thinking that perhaps neither the movement of those nations, nor the diligent and concerned efforts of the Roman Empire, would prevail against the Bulgarians, with justice fighting alongside you and the other aid from God assisting you. ^B But when there comes to my mind the destruction of so many churches of God, the bishoprics, the monasteries, the slaughter of priests, the violation of virgins, and the injuries afflicted upon monks, what reason is there to think that God will overlook these things? And will He not turn aside from the forbearance which He has shown until now—He who is philanthropic and long-suffering, seeking our conversion—to anger and wrath against you, and bring about retribution for such great slaughter? These things, my beloved son—for God knows that I love you—tear at my humble soul, and I further learn even now of such a great movement of nations stirred up against you; and I grieve as much for the Bulgarians as I do for the Romans, lest, through your contentiousness and your continued seeking of wars, you be destroyed, as has often happened to many nations which, though they grew over time, in the end, through a warlike disposition, met with total ruin.

Such things indeed have happened many times in their own seasons. But now, praying that this may not happen in your case, and that you, being Christians, may not come to such an end, for all the things for which I have previously entreated your prudent and gentle soul, I now beseech you, and I embrace you as though present, and I admonish you as a beloved son regarding what is advantageous. ^D My child, the time is long enough that the common sower of discord and enemy has been exulting against the Romans and the Bulgarians; his injury to them has been sufficient, sufficient have been the evils that have occurred until now toward the shared ruin of the Bulgarians and the Romans, and toward the grief of Christ our God, whose body both the Romans and the Bulgarians are, as members of one head. I know that daily you wash your soul in the life-giving streams of the teaching of the blessed Apostle. "Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good; let not the sun go down upon your anger." What is this? Why meditate on these things? Why, having been nurtured in such doctrine from boyhood? I know your soul, like a plant in flowing streams, has been nurtured by that doctrine. Whence such

bitterness of soul? Why has anger extended so far, and why have we allowed the sun to gaze for such a long time upon these pitiable spectacles, permitting it to witness all the movements of arms between Romans and Bulgarians?

Enough of the pitiable and miserable things it has witnessed until now. Show a change befitting a Christian and your own prudence; turn back to the smooth road of peace; abandon the rough and thorny path of war, or rather the man-slaying path, which the envy of the devil, that murderer from the beginning, indicated. Even now the Christ-loving Emperor is ready to be bound to you with the bond of peace, as to a son and brother, and to grant/bestow everything and to do all things that befit a discourse [aimed at] healing your authority. Let us not wish to persist in harmful schemes; nor, while so many nations are prepared ^B either to shed their own souls or to destroy the Bulgarians entirely, let us choose to organize battle lines and wars. The outcome of war is uncertain; or rather, it is not uncertain, as far as one can calculate humanly, and looking toward the just retribution of God from whom one must expect it. Let us look to what is safe, and let us not recklessly enter into entanglements, battles, and slaughters with them, lest, even if victory results from those entanglements, you should fall into dangers and affairs from which later there will follow harm, shame, and remorse. And I do not know if, even upon repenting, you will be able to obtain from any powerful person any consolation for the hardships surrounding you.

These things, my son, I have written weeping and groaning, anxious and overwhelmed by much fear ^C lest the Bulgarian nation should in any way fall into such sufferings as have overtaken many who, having thought themselves for a time to enjoy some good fortune, later fell into the ultimate misfortune. I pass over ancient examples, and those of which we possess knowledge from history and reading, but that which has just happened—which I surely believe has reached your ears—is the story of that Leo of Tripoli, who, at the time of the sack of Thessalonica, gained a great name because of our sins, and having risen toward a degree of arrogance such as I do not know if anyone else has in these days, he campaigned boasting of such things as: "I will arrive at the Queen City, and perhaps I will capture it; but if not that, it is enough for me to boast that I arrived at the city that is the head of Roman power, and ^D shot arrows against its walls." But, indeed, this man who had taken up such a fantasy, who was so puffed up, marched only until the time when the judgment of God struck him down. The place is an island called Lemnos; there, therefore, having arrived, and imagining such things as he imagined, he met with the just retribution of God. And see how much time the forbearance and long-suffering of God [allows]; for he was able to advance even until the seventeenth or eighteenth year; but, after such a long delay of time, he did not escape the judgment of God, nor was he...

my beloved child; for it has been ^A perhaps the seventeenth or eighteenth year; yet even after such a protraction of time, he did not escape the judgment of God, nor was he permitted in the end to boast in his vain thoughts. For upon a fleet being dispatched against him just now, such an unexpected destruction and ruin befell him; for he was residing on the aforementioned island, laying waste and plundering without fear everything in the region, as he supposed. But while he was thus luxuriating in our sins and indulging in the fantasies of his own mind, the fleet of the Romans caught him—and all those there, both ships and combatants, and simply that Agarene force—and with favor from above and the just oversight of God, delivered them to destruction.

Dost thou see, my beloved son, after how much passage of time God has humbled the proud and haughty man? Such is the divine goodness and philanthropy; it does not immediately bring its sword against the proud and arrogant, but keeps it gleaming, yet delays it, waiting for the conversion and change toward better things of those who persistently love to commit offenses and to do things that grieve Him. May it not be—and I have prayed this before and I pray it now, and I shall always make this prayer—that such things should befall you, but rather may it be granted to you by God to come to a realization of love and of the desire for peace, and, O Christ our Savior and God, that the enmity may be extinguished, and the demon who loves war be cast out, and that through your conversion toward good and saving things, you might be turned away from the war against you—those who are thus stirred up and who are still preparing to be stirred up against you—and that you may be preserved unharmed from all harm and distress, such as the nature of war is wont to bring upon those who incline to a worse lot through weapons.

XXIV. To the same.

I have often written to my beloved son—as a father I would wish to say, *my beloved son*—but you do not give me such freedom, and I speak this for no other reason, it seems, than because of my own sins. I write now, too, with the same disposition of love toward you, my child, and with the same care in my humble soul for your glory and for the salvation of the common good of the race of the Bulgarians and Romans, and for the cessation of evils. For I cannot remain silent concerning the common calamities through which not only is the present life of the common race of Romans and Bulgarians being destroyed, but the life to come also shows them to be strangers to its own participation, and death covers them, never receiving any release; for the fall from the kingdom of God and the deprivation of His sweet enjoyment, and the condemnation to eternal torment—you know, my beloved son, that this is the death of sinners, which is a grievous thing. For this reason, I have been moved to write even now, begging and falling down before you, and embracing your knees, that you might hear me, even if late, and not despise our prayer, but grant to a humble father, still present in this life, to see between

^A the Roman and Bulgarian peace, and to witness the check on the shedding of Christian blood being brought about by a Christian hand. Do not desire, my beloved son, that we should depart from the present life—for we are already reaching toward the grave—with that grief and anguish of our humble heart which we bear on account of such great calamity of the common people of Christ our God, and on account of such great, I know not from whence it comes, punishment; for the evil demon, having cast this into our midst, cannot find enough of this unbearable misery.

Do not desire, I say again, that we, humble as we are, should depart from this present life afflicted and with our soul entirely torn by these common disasters which, as you see, for so long a time have divided Romans and Bulgarians. But my concern is such; yet allow me also to speak concerning you, without pain and without offense, and may you not be indignant at what we say. ^B Human life is unstable, my son; not only are those who have grown old, as I have, quickly overtaken by death, but many of those in their prime have also fallen under the sickle of death, and in the very flower of age, the blossoming life has been cut down. Who knows what great human misfortunes might befall even your God-honored rule and authority? Therefore, I will also add this, being concerned for your soul’s welfare and salvation, and for its rest in the life to come: "For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, yet loses his own soul?" Who doubts, my son honored by God, that a brother who has killed a brother has also killed his own soul? Remember, therefore, the brotherhood in Christ of the Bulgarians and Romans, and how many brothers of both peoples have been slaughtered ^C by a brotherly hand.

I know indeed that you deny that you are the author of so many evils, and you blame others. You speak the truth, and we also confess that the folly of men, driven at various times into this by the demon, has provided the cause of the war. But Divine Justice, having judged those others as it willed, has demanded the punishment for their deeds; to you, it has granted the opportunity to exact from them greater things than what you suffered. Let what has been perpetrated to our common detriment up to this time be sufficient for you. You are not taking up arms against the impious, or against those who oppose the cross of Christ, or against nations that do not know the name of God, but against fathers, in a word, against brothers, and a kinship which neither flesh nor blood, but the all-holy Spirit of God, has joined together. How long shall we provide a place for the devil and his angels to exult? ^D You are not unaware that he bases his exultation on the wars that Christians wage against each other, and on the shedding of their blood by one another. And I pass over the rest: the destruction of the churches, the scattering of the monks, the violation of virgins, and the extinction of the hymns and doxologies in the holy temples. How long shall we give Christ our God, who for our salvation suffered poverty, contempt, and the cross, and his merciful angels, cause for grief and sorrow? Or do you doubt—yet I know you do not doubt—that Christ our God is more grievously afflicted by these things, and, if I may say so, more grievously than by the nails of the cross, and the angelic powers

^A are stirred and agitated by an incomparable horror. Yet, in the judgment which He knows, He shows Himself benign and long-suffering, and still holds back the punishment, and does not let fall upon him the sword of His vengeance that is already drawn.

What more must I say to a man filled with the grace of God and prudence? Therefore, I will pause here. For if you would only be willing to return to your own gentleness and philanthropy, you would perceive through yourself not only these things I have said, but things more humane and better, and you would consider how useful they are. Therefore, let me simply add the prayer which we offer to God without ceasing, and nothing more: ^B May God and the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who sent Him into the world to destroy the middle wall of enmity by the blood of His Son and to make peace in all things, Himself even now bestow peace in your heart; may He crush Satan beneath your feet and turn the pestilence brought about by the scandals between the Romans and the Bulgarians onto his own head; and may He grant that you be united again just as in the beginning by the bond of sweet peace, and, restoring to fathers and children and brothers the love and affection that is fitting, may He thus lead us out of this miserable life, and grant to you, along with peace, length of days, and the enjoyment of the eternal life hereafter.

XXV. To the same.

What I see happening in common turns of fortune, my God-honored son, when often a ^C tumult falling upon the ears does not allow the words of the one speaking to be heard, this I perceive is also happening to us. For even now, it seems, the tumult of my sins prevents our words from reaching your ears, and through them from passing into your gentle and philanthropic soul. For if this were not so, how is it reasonable that our many petitions for the good and benefit of the Bulgarians and Romans should remain unheeded until this day? Nevertheless, even with the situation as it is, since the necessity lies upon me not to be silent—for woe is me if I cease to intercede for peace—I write again and will not cease to write, as long as our days in this present life are granted to us.

My son, my very bowels, most desired son ^D, along with the other acts of your administration, consider this also: that from the time the Bulgarian nation bowed its neck to Christ our God, you are the second to have been entrusted with their rule. And it is just that, as you have become the heir of the authority of your blessed father, so you should also be the heir of his peaceful soul and of the rest of his Christian state. He, with God, laid the foundation; it is fitting for you to build, but not to tear down, nor to dig up the foundation. He tied the bond of love toward the Romans; you are obligated to tighten it, with all your might, but not to cut it; he, through inspiration from above, turned away weapons

^A of slaughter against Christians. You, as one who honors the father, as one existing as his genuine son and heir of his God-loving manner, are obligated to cast these aside entirely as useless toward such an activity. This is what it behooves your glory-endowed virtue to think; this is what is necessary to do, even without the entreaty of others, and not such pitiable deeds as are now coming to pass. I ask you, my child, answer in a manner worthy of your own gentleness and goodness: if he who now dwells with the saints in the heavens were still present in this life, and were seeing you acting in this way, carrying out these slaughters and wars, what words do you think he would say to you? How do you imagine he would be disposed in his soul? Would he not have been filled with tears? Would he not have become full of sadness and dejection, and would he not have found life unendurable? Would he not have been tearing the honorable hairs of his head and beard with both hands, shouting with lamentation: "What are you doing, my child? Why are you tearing down our glory? Why are you destroying the work that I, with God’s help, labored to achieve, and in which there was boasting for me, and for you, and for all our people? Why are you rendering vain the struggles through which the entire life of men was about to call both me and my generation blessed, and are thus bringing an incomparable loss upon yourself and upon us?"

^B What then? If he were here, living among men, he would have been disposed in this way, and he would have shouted out such things while lamenting. But now, dwelling with the saints and standing before God, and deemed worthy of great acceptance on account of the work which, with God preceding, he accomplished for the Bulgarians, and for the foundation of the faith, and reasonably prideful on account of it, and perceiving these things that are now in opposition: do you not already doubt, O child, that the saints in heaven have perception of what occurrences take place in the world? Is it not the case that he, living in the life above, will feel pain with much greater grief, and at the same time will appear consumed by an ineffable sadness, partly by reflecting on his own work—for which even he had laid down his life, although through divine power he overcame the murderers—and partly by being anxious about you, his son, and praying to God that He might grant you glory and virtue, and finally grant you to obtain the inheritance of the glory above? Imagine him to be present with you, my child, having become so worthy of compassion, and believe that the words we write to you are not from me, but from him. ^C For who at all doubts that that man of God is severely grieved by the things being done by you today? And if it were possible for him to come from that blessed life to this wretched and present one of ours, he would have come not only to say to you such things as those we have recounted, but also many things beyond these—which, having great resources, as one liberated from this vain agitation and approaching the First Mind, and being wholly filled with the illumination from there, he would be able to speak.

Your letter, my God-honored son, brought forward the great Moses ^D; and you wrote what you did write by mention of him. But what communion do our affairs have with Moses? What oracles have you received from God? Where did you gaze upon the divine glory that induces you to do such things?

^A Of what servitude or calamity have you appeared as a liberator to the people of God? For I omit to say, since we have often spoken tragically of these things, what calamities the people of God have suffered and are suffering from you, which do not occur through divine incitement and mission, but through human litigation choosing to act against the will of God. In your letter you wrote that we enjoy the labors of your grandfathers and fathers. It is well written; and so it was fitting, my son, that since your holy father labored so much in the business of peace between the Romans and the Bulgarians, we should enjoy his labors, not turn our minds to the contrary, or renew those things and deem them happy, which he, with God’s help, undertook to abolish, enduring such long labors.

These things I said in response to the reading of your letter; but we say again, as we have also said often before, Lay down your arms, my son; cease the wars and the shedding of blood; seek peace and pursue it with the holy Prophet, even if my exhortations are unworthy and you reject such an ill-fated design; seek those things which it is just for you to receive, and the Romans will gladly give them. If you desire gold and silver, a suitable portion of land, or whatever else may be in the wishes of the Bulgarians, the Romans will willingly grant it. ^B Frequently, Romans have sustained wars against the Persians or your ancestors the Bulgarians, which, after they had an end in more or fewer years, and a certain tribute was granted either by them to the Romans or by the Romans to them, arrived at peaceful treaties. For such is the nature of wars. But to wish to conquer the empire of another nation and to occupy the dominion of its wealth, what is this but the mark of a most hostile man?—which, however, no one could in any way execute against the Romans. Although I have often written this to you, yet these things had to be written again, but to be commemorated more briefly in this letter. One thing, however, I shall put forward before I make an end of writing.

Nothing is so characteristic of authority and power as the tranquility and serenity of the soul, and purity in both words and deeds. Why then, my son, doing what is unworthy of your authority, do you write insultingly to those who have been entrusted by a judgment from above with the empire, which God alone has established on earth as indissoluble? Even if, by judgments known to Him, He allows some to prevail in their aggressions until the appointed time arrives, when all, willing or unwilling, will bow the neck and will confess and worship its lordship; you write as it is natural for enemies to put forward objections; write contradicting, but do not add insults, ^C but preserve the dignity befitting kings, and do not descend to things unworthy of your authority. For it is the mark of a base character, and—so to speak—of one ignorant of courtesy, to be insulting, whereas it is the mark of an eminent man, who knows how to lead others to what is honorable. Are you ignorant, my son,

^A that it is the duty not only of those who have obtained rule, but of all those other men who lay claim to dignity, to shun insults and to guard the purity of their tongue and of their words, and before these, of their mind, from the filth of insults?

Why must I mention the ancients and the moderns—Persians, Agarenes, and others before them—to whom authority was entrusted? Whenever they waged wars among themselves, they carried on military affairs, but being wise, they abstained from insults honorably and regally. And even down to our own day, the Agarenes, whenever the crisis of affairs disturbs them, still preserve the due reverence and the honor owed to royal majesty. You also, O son, keeping a mind consistent with your own magnificence, abstain from insults when you write, ^B especially when the imperial letters sent to you bring nothing insulting, but rather accord you the honor that is your due. For it does not escape you that those who direct the Roman Empire, if they have written anything too harshly to you, have not been moved to this by themselves, but have been compelled to adapt their letters to your harsh writings—to such an extent that their harshness has erupted from your own insults. But the mind of the Emperor, constant to itself, calls you brother and friend, observing every form of true love and affection, and, to sum it all up, embracing you kindly as a father embraces his own son.

You must therefore show the same spirit. Regarding the war, as I have said, write what you wish, ^C but refrain from insults, and maintain in your letters the same honor which you pretend is judged worthy of you by the Emperor. In writing these things to you, my son, I make it known to you that I, as a father who truly loves and is zealous for your glory and your honor, would not want to keep silent if I heard anything contrary or unbecoming to your glory. On the contrary, with every means in my power, I will strive to reinforce your good reputation. May God, of glory, the author of this present life and of the future life, himself sweep away every deed that leads to disgrace, and may He put to shame the evil demon, who from the beginning and until now does not cease to struggle to bring the honored creation of God to ignominy. ^D Moreover, may God grant that when the day arrives according to His holy decree, we may depart from this present life without reproach and dwell in incorruptible splendor with all those whom He has glorified from eternity.

XXVI. To the Same.

Although I have written very often, my son, regarding the common peace and salvation of the children of Christ our God—for the Romans and the Bulgarians are His children, redeemed by the price of the blood from His side, and both peoples are consecrated by His salvation—although I have written very often regarding the common utility of both nations,

^A and what I have written has been considered as nothing, I shall not cease from writing, nor will I abstain from fulfilling the duty owed by me, and as much as possible for me, I shall clear myself of that threat brought against him who is appointed to watch, namely that he shall render an account of the blood of the man who perishes if he has not indicated the sword coming against the one receiving it. This fear makes me, even now as before, my beloved son, not to be silent; but at the same time a thought has entered my mind for the present occasion, that even if you did not accept my exhortation before, it is certain that now your good and gentle soul—insofar as I understood your nature during that brief time when it was my lot to be with you—will accept the exhortation of a father who loves his son, and will extinguish the fire and the flame which until now has been striving to ignite and ruin the Romans and the Bulgarians. Again, therefore, I entreat, again I exhort, again I send these present letters, weeping with blood. ^B For if it were possible to write letters with tears instead of ink, you would see that the nature of my tears is not much different from blood. And how could I not shed such tears, when I recall to mind the horrible events, that calamitous tragedy which has no precedent, which Satan has tried to introduce into life with Christian blood, and slaughters, and such destruction of episcopal residences, monasteries, and private homes, thus preparing a sad history for future generations?

Itaque, my beloved son, what I declare speaking to our God-crowned emperors, I now set forth to you in this letter. Look to the good of peace, look to the salvation of the subjects, do not persist in this most wicked strife, ^C and do not prefer slaughters and blood, widowhoods, and bereavements. Remember the good and most sweet things which resulted from peace for the Romans and Bulgarians. Indeed, the emperors of the Romans say that they are ready to obey the exhortation, and they accept the entreaty, and they bear no grudge, and do not seek war any longer, even though they have suffered terrible things at the hands of the Bulgarians, and even though they possess the hope that from those things which they have unjustly suffered at your hands, and from those things in which they are most capable, with the justice from above primarily assisting, they will—through that very power which you consider wicked—take vengeance. But I entreat you to stand in the same mind, ^D and to put on the same prudence, and to consider past losses to be sufficient. For the time that has passed is sufficient, and even more than sufficient, during which so many crises have existed between Romans and Bulgarians, which surely no one will forget. Consider, my son, the destruction of the Churches of God, as many as have reached the order of bishoprics, as many monasteries, the murder of priests, the defilement of virgins, the insults offered to monks. Will God overlook these things? Will He not kindle into wrath that long-suffering which, as one who is philanthropic, He has shown up to the present as He awaits a turnaround, and will He not pursue vengeance for such defilements of blood? Who would not agree with these things, so long as his reason and conscience are intact? Hear me, O creature of God, hear a Father who loves you and your people. For God knows that I do not...

love you, and grieve for you, just as I do for ^A the Romans, so also for the Bulgarians, in the face of this slaughter; and who, possessing rational understanding, would not agree?

But concerning the Romans, I have certain better hopes, keeping in view that they suffer unjustly, and knowing that God always extends a helping hand to those suffering injustice, whenever it seems good to His all-wise judgment, though sometimes He delays His patience, wishing to reveal the injustices of the sufferers. Concerning the Bulgarians, however, I have no better hope that can be discerned; for you have presumed to be gifted with some success. But what is success, when it does not have justice as its general? Other nations have also happened to be successful at certain times, and as they thought they were gaining increase, they have, by their war-loving resolve, ^B fallen into complete ruin, and not even their name is left behind among men in the present, except for those who, collecting histories, sometimes recall their memory. I know that you yourself, my beloved son, being a lover of learning and passing through the books of the ancients, recognize what we are writing. I pray, therefore, and I fear that, while you persist in slaughters and wars, your prayer may become fruitless, and this will happen to you as well. But may this not be, nor may it happen, nor may it befall you who are Christians to arrive at such an end, but rather that the scandals which the evil one has sown, and the tares of his sowing, may be removed from the midst; and that the nation of the Bulgarians, again embracing the peace of Christ, may dwell in gentleness and in sound life under that one head, Christ our God, of whom both Romans and Bulgarians are a body, being protected and growing. ^C

Epistle XXVII. To the same.

As often as I start to write to you, O son honored of God, better hopes encompass my soul, that my letter will certainly persuade your gentleness and philanthropy, and will call you to peace, and that I shall attain the end of my petition. I am moved by a certain sweet feeling, my soul is lightened of the pain that occupies me concerning the common calamities of the Romans and Bulgarians, which the man-hating devil has thrown into their midst, and the gloom and sadness over these things seem, as it were, to be held in check. But when I read through the letter of your most glorious authority, my grief is multiplied, ^D and a deeper darkness of despair bows down my soul. For it is indeed so. Just as a surgeon, having applied a medicine to a wound, but seeing the inflammation becoming more savage, is filled with despair and confusion; so we too, the humble ones, established by judgments known to God for the healing of the passions of souls, since we see that the treatment applied according to our power benefits nothing, but the wound—woe to me in my misery—and such a great wound, is proceeding for the worse, we are filled with dejection, sadness, and confusion more than can be told, all the more because we know—not by report, but by our own experience—the excellent intelligence of you, O son honored of God; for the time that we have conversed together, though brief, has nevertheless made your soul entirely known to us.

^A And amazement takes hold of us, and a most bitter pain possesses us, how a man as great and of such stature as I have been able to discern, not only fails to perceive the snare of the wicked devil through his own intelligence, but also, with the power from above, fails to trample his machinations, and to cast his scandals back into his face, and to become a man of the virtue that befits you and of that holy peace from the beginning, which God and the Father of all planted between the Romans and the Bulgarians through your own holy father. But even when we, lowly that we are, have often entreated, supplicated, or, if I may so say, written our letters with tears, those things which we have written up to the present day while entreating have been counted as nothing. Yet, O our child, if such entreaty had been made to you by one of those others who serve God but sit in a corner, it would not be worthy nor becoming to your virtue, being most Christian, to treat the petition as trivial. If this is so, consider our position, whom—unworthy though we be—God has nevertheless placed both to perform the liturgy at the holy altar and to annoint those who perform His service and ministry. As I said, amazement and most bitter pain seize us over these things.

^B But, my beloved son, my desired friend, put an end to the amazement, cease the pain; give me your attentive ear, receive the words of a humble high priest and of an elder Father, who proposes what is advantageous and suggests what is conducive to salvation, and which will glorify and magnify your name both in the present age and in the future, numbering you among those glorified by God. Give me your most gentle soul—for it is most gentle, as far as I have discerned it, even if the wicked demon has striven to alter its gentleness; give me, then, your philanthropic soul, and receive the words of consolation which we offer in our plea for Christ’s sake. We entreat you for His sake, because the Romans and the Bulgarians are His people and heritage, and they happen to be sealed with His precious blood; let the destruction of either people cease through your restoration of the peace which the man-slayer from the beginning has dissolved; and it will surely be restored, my most desired son, if the most heavy proposals which you put forth are changed toward the more lenient.

^D For you know, being prudent, that in all matters where men have been led into battle and strife by the wicked one, there is no other way for the hatred and the quarrel to be quelled, unless those who have been divided by hatred come together toward one another with a more yielding spirit; for the one of the two parties which, out of willfulness, puts forward only its own opinion and seeks only what is agreeable to itself, knows not how to restore peace and love. For it is clear that he who seeks the impossible does not seek peace, but rather contemplates a hatred that cannot be broken. You, therefore, my beloved son, as a son of peace—for you are a son of peace, since you were born to your holy father in a time of peace, and as one who from Christ, the giver of all peace, didst in a way take the beginning of your lineage,

^A seeking the things of peace, propose terms of peace and the compensations for those things in which the Romans have offended you—we mean, as has been written before, a contribution of gold, silver, and other possessions, perhaps even the allocation of some territory, and not such impossible things as you are putting forward. For neither is entry into the city acceptable, nor that other thing which you mention; for the sovereignty of the whole West belongs to the Roman Empire. Therefore, leaving these things aside, propose what is possible, and that which, with God, will also be of benefit to you, for God will certainly provide those things that shall accrue to you. Neither those before you held the Roman Empire in subjection, nor have you, up to the present time, known such gains. But those who have been allotted the reign and their senate will provide them ^B without severity and with full readiness; and with God, Bulgarians and Romans will again bind the bonds of holy peace. And Satan will be put to flight, and Christ our God will rejoice, and all those who are of his party, and that original happiness and sweet state will again be extended between the Romans and the Bulgarians.

Your letter recently sent, our child, and other letters before it, requested that some individuals be sent who might consult with you about peace. For this purpose there was sent, by the grace of God, a man of prudent and capable mind, the sacristan of the temple of the Mother of God and our Mistress, erected in the Blachernae; receive him kindly and signify to him what you wish. And after his return, if your humane and gentle soul looks entirely toward the good of peace, ^C there will be sent men prominent in the Church and in the state, through whom the words will reach something firm and established. May Christ our God, whom I know you desire to serve unceasingly, as one longing to be an heir of his glory—for present glory is but the flower of grass—inspire and lead your meditations into such thoughts as will ensure peace; for the sake of which he himself poured out his immaculate blood and suffered all other torments, that he might abolish the empire of the devil, who is the father of hatred.

XXVIII. To the same.

Again we write to a son beloved by us, even if we are disregarded by the son, yet ^D we judge it impious not to write, looking rather to the love owed by parents toward their children and not to your disregard which you show toward us. We write partly moved by our own accord, and partly by the counsel of the most holy Pope, our brother and fellow-minister. For he, since the miserable state of affairs between the Bulgarians and the Romans has spread over the whole earth and is spoken of everywhere, although he has not seen with his own eyes those great calamities, the captivity, the burnings, the devastation of churches, the deflowering of virgins, the widows, the orphans; but bearing a bitter wound in his heart, [and writing] to holy men...

men of his own rank, in all things pleasing to God. The first of these, who is among his own bishops, is called Theophylact; and another, also a bishop, not much inferior to him in rank, is called Carus. But he sent these to you carrying letters, the purpose and labor of which were that these grievous things between the Bulgarians and the Romans might be brought to an end, and that the devil, the father of evils, might be put to shame, and that peace—which Christ our Lord himself granted to those who have called upon the name of Christ, that peace which surpasses all understanding, he who is the destroyer of enmity and who wills that those who acknowledge him as Master and Lord should be bound together by the bond of love—might be bestowed. But as I said, being thus wounded in heart just by hearing of these things, the most holy archbishop of the Romans and all his subordinates under him wrote to us, [demanding] that these men be sent to Bulgaria through us at all costs, hoping that you would surely be persuaded either by their exhortation or their bond. For the most holy Pope also gave them orders that, if you should close your ears to their exhortation, they should bind you with the indissoluble bond of the Holy Spirit. We also wished to send these men to you thus commissioned; ^B but considering, I know not how, my beloved son, that you have not wisely decided to detain the envoys—a thing which is seen not to occur among any other nations, not even among the infidels—we held back, so that the men, after the other hardships of their long journey, might not fall into the distress and injury you have caused. For this reason, the letter written to you by the most holy Pope was sent on, but we held back the men themselves from arriving to you, sparing them from injury—not to say death. What then do I say, my son? Take note and do not desire to despise both us and the archbishop of the Romans who has now written to you. But if you hold us in no account, nor our exhortations, respect his admonition, lest, if he is dishonored, the chief Apostles—regarding the dishonor as their own, since they are served by these men night and day—should look upon you with a bitter eye, and I know not if you will be able to endure that bitterness. Consider Peter, how he delivered Ananias and his wife to death out of mere indignation; remember Paul, how ^C he blinded the eyes of Elymas the sorcerer because he appeared to be hostile to the Apostle. Consider these things in your mind, my son, and do not commit the error of casting the Pope’s admonitions to the winds, as you do ours; and this you will do even less because, as we have learned, you greatly honor the holy princes of the Apostles. If you truly honor them, you will surely honor him who occupies their see. We write these things, and we make mention of Rome for the sake of the envoys to be sent to you. We know well, too, by the grace of God, that if a scandal has arisen in the Church on account of the fourth marriage, holy men have repelled it with all humility through anathema. For whatever had need of healing was healed. As for the rest, we apply ourselves to the holy mysteries and participate in their communion and sanctification, whence also the Roman and the Con-

^A blinded the eyes of Elymas the sorcerer, simply because that wretched man appeared to set himself in opposition to the Apostle. Consider these things, therefore, my son, and I say it again, lay hold of fear and trembling, so that as we do, you also ought to reason concerning the teaching of the Pope; especially since you yourself, as far as we learn, consider it of great value to honor the saints and the leaders of the disciples, whom if you truly honor, you will by no means dishonor the one who sits upon their throne. But we write these things regarding the Romans on account of the embassy sent to you. And we also make known to you this, that by the grace of God, upon arriving here, whatever scandal had occurred in the Church from the fourth marriage, this has been consigned to anathema ^B by our humility, and everything that required healing received the necessary remedy; and finally, in common, we have served the immaculate mysteries, and have participated in their communion and in sanctification, and hence the Church of the Romans and that of the Constantinopolitans has become one of accord and harmony. We have written, therefore, also concerning this, partly so that you yourself may have cause to rejoice, as we do, at the state of the churches. For he knows that although Satan has ill-disposed other matters between the Romans and the Bulgarians, nevertheless, as a worshiper of Christ, you rejoice at the state of His Church.

But I marvel at this, my son, how, excelling in such prudence, you do something unworthy of your prudence. For having received a letter from those who, by the providence of God, have been allotted to rule over the Roman people, you do not answer them, but the senate—a thing which is indeed unheard of and indecent to hear, and one which would stir up reproach against you. For what man among all people, receiving ^C a letter from the one holding imperial power, neglects him and writes to those who are under his authority? Who ever, neglecting a king, whose power it is to approve or disapprove what is said, communicates instead with his ministers and disdains to seek an opinion from him? Where in the world have you heard of this being done? This has never occurred anywhere up to this time, and there is no one who, hearing of one thinking in such a way, would not heap great condemnation upon him. Cast away, therefore, my son, such an intention; for it is not of those who are serious, but of those who are joking. But if you, having received divine illumination, have come to a recognition and repentance of what has been done by you—the murders, the burnings, and the other devastation—and you truly intend the things of peace, write to those who have received from God both the empire and the care of His people; and if it seems good to you, indicate also the place where they shall ^D gather who are to conclude the terms of peace. And if you yourself wish to approach in person, make this clear as well; so that even my humility, though I am old and weak, might nonetheless overlook these things and come to you, along with those whom our Christ-loving emperors, who love us, shall appoint from among the leaders of the state. Do this, if you truly have hated wars and slaughters and have become filled with the desire for peace. But if the things you write are not those of one who is serious nor of one seeking peace, but are excuses and words mixed with mockery, it is better to keep silence and neither to write such things nor provoke us to respond to empty words with empty writings. Otherwise, may Christ our God keep you strong, and so—

may He reach out His hand to help you pass through life well and without reproach, in proportion to the burden of worldly affairs He has laid upon you; and may He not permit your mind to be crushed by the weight of these things, as so often happens to those who have been entrusted with authority and worldly power. ^A

XXIX. To the same.

We have kept silent, our beloved child, for a long time, and we have refrained from writing to you, ^B being weighed down by a heavy grief, because we saw that no benefit resulted from the frequent letters that we had written before; and at the same time, we were humbly offering our prayers to the Son of God, the author and teacher of peace, looking only to His benevolence and saving providence, which cares for nothing so much as the peace of the world. Now, however, our child, since we feel that the greater part of that heavy burden of grief has been lifted from our heart, and we have been restored to good hopes—would that we have not been led into error, with heavenly kindness ^C helping us!—we have again undertaken to write to your magnificent honor, my child, my beloved son. For we love you, but you do not love your father; for if you did love him, you would have hearkened to paternal exhortations. But, my beloved child, how long shall we remain like this, grieving God by the evils through which we bring destruction—to our own disgrace—upon His holy inheritance? For we have not even considered the dread judgment of God, nor for how long a time Christians have been defiling ^D themselves with the mutual slaughter of one another.

I concede, if you wish, that you may be unaware of any of the counsels regarding your conscience that are disapproved by the Supreme Judge. But how long shall we heap evil upon evil? How long shall we give the devil cause to exult in the mutual slaughter of Christians? Reflect, my child, that the time of our life is swiftly flowing away, and perhaps the day on which it is ordained for our soul to leave the body is not far off. And then, with what conscience shall we depart from this life if the event occurs, as it usually does, even though we deceive ourselves with the vain hope that we shall have long days of life? What shall we say, what shall we revolve in our mind, when the hour constrains us, and the angels, requiring our soul, stand by, seeking not only what we did while living, but of what sort those things were? But it does not escape you what sort of deeds have been done, how great has been the destruction of Romans and Bulgarians, whom God had adopted through baptism; what desolation there has been of the churches of God, and [how] the hymns glorifying Him [have been] suppressed, and the mysteries [are] no longer celebrated for the remission of our sins. Reckon up with me the monasteries destroyed, the episcopal houses overturned, and all the other churches that stood in the region desolated, and the worship extinguished that had been instituted in them to the glory of God. Other [...]

^A I leave aside the rest: the corruption of the virgins, the falling away from the reverence due to the monastics, and the contempt for the priestly order of God’s ministers—as is to be expected on account of the captivity, such being human affairs; and, as if all these things were not enough to cause grief to Christ our God, the incurable and irremediable scandals that continue to be left behind by you even after your death. You have already passed your youth; for the hope of enduring in this life is something unbelievable for the young. But when we have passed beyond youth, and especially when we have reached the sixtieth year—an age which you are perhaps approaching, or from which you are not far distant—what must we think? For to the seventieth year, few among men ascend, and for the most part we see the human race ending its life below this threshold. ^B

What profit is there for you in descending into this abyss of the war that persists between the Romans and the Bulgarians? What will result, other than that we shall be called to account at the heavenly judgment seat of God, not only for the evil things we ourselves did while we lived, but that we shall also have to undergo punishment for the things committed by others after our death? Therefore, my son, as if I were present before you, I kiss your mouth, your eyes, and your whole person; I embrace your knees and I entreat that your most benign soul—since the wickedness of affairs has shaken it from its own particular nature—may incline toward peace. Let what has already occurred in terms of deadly events be enough. Let the wars and massacres of Christians cease; ^C and do not leave behind a wretched and accursed monument, such as that Simeon who, although he was clear-shining in his own generation in respect to all prudence, judgment, and the praise of virtue, and was as it were a light of the Bulgarian race, nonetheless trampled upon the peace that had been made by his own father, and violated the agreements, oaths, and compacts with the Romans, and became a foe more cruel than his ancestors who did not know Christ our God. And not only was he seen to be such while he lived, but even after his death he left behind an implacable war, rejoicing in the swords of Romans and Bulgarians that dripped with the blood of slaughter.

I have written these things to you, my son, lamenting and grieving, first for myself, because my wretched old age has lasted long enough to bear witness to such wretched events, ^D and grieving also for you, and indeed for the Roman race as well, on account of which you are even now suffering as you stir up war against one another, and because in the life to come, when passions have no respite, you will be subjected to bitter punishments, seeing that you have counted for nothing the blood of Christ our God, by which we were bought and have become His people. Nevertheless, our God-crowned emperors, as they have often done, even now seek peace and are strenuously endeavoring in every way to alleviate the evils brought about by the men who came before. Wherefore they have now sent men to confer with you concerning peace. It is therefore your task and that of your perfecting——

judgment to enter into such agreements as are proper and pleasing to God, and generally beneficial to both Romans and Bulgarians: so that Satan, the author of scandals and wars, may be put to shame, and that you may again possess the peace which God established between the Romans and Bulgarians from the beginning. And as you, as children, recognize the fathers from whom you received the grace of holy baptism, ^A so may the Romans, as fathers, recognize the Bulgarians as their own children in Christ; and may God be glorified in these things, and may the affairs of common life and existence be restored to the Romans and Bulgarians to their original prosperity and enjoyment.

We add this one thing: that you have acted in a manner unworthy of your glorious authority, having replied with insulting and deceitful words to the letters which expressed friendship and served the dignity of the times, which the Christ-loving emperor, praying for peace, wrote to you. For I think, my son, that you are not unaware that, even if the miserable common folk feel otherwise, only base men devoid of sense turn to insults; to which, on the other hand, those who hold supreme power never descend, if they have any sense of their own glory. You see, my son, my love for you, and that even in these matters, ^B I am concerned for your glory, acting as a father to lift you up in whatever way I can as you fall, lest in falling your glorious dignity should turn into reproach. Regarding the present matters, write as one adorned with honors, desiring the restoration of affairs, their utility, and peace, ought to write—as one who has received the empire from God, as one who is a Christian, as one who is to stand before the terrible judgment seat of God and render an account for your rule and for the administration and salvation of your subjects. Do not write cavils, nor insults or base remarks, which not only ill-befit the honor of those to whom you write, but also—though respect for my love for you forbids me to say it, yet moved by the truth I will speak—redound to your own ^C condemnation.

XXX. To the same.

Since I have not received a letter from you, my son, I am moved to write—the same cause that stirred me before moving me now—namely, the desire for that happy and longed-for peace which the ancient enemy of men, the devil, taking away, has deprived the race of the Bulgarians and the Romans of the greatest goods, and has caused great pain to Christ our God, having persuaded His sheep to strive for mutual destruction. Concerning this I have written often, and now write as a supplicant, having even now your sweet words in my ears, and meditating upon them daily—as many as your ^D prudent tongue has uttered, not only to us but also to our God-loving emperor, whom I know you have loved and still love, from the time you saw him and experienced his kindness. For indeed, my son, you promised him peace and the end of slaugh

ter and wars, and the unfortunate events resulting from these, and that the Romans and Bulgarians would be restored to their former prosperity. And even before your meeting with our Christ-loving emperor, you wrote to my unworthy self from Bulgaria that you would apply yourself to the present matters, wishing for peace to be made and for the wars and arms which Christians were moving against one another to cease, with God’s help.

Having an indelible memory of these things in our heart, and knowing the reverence for truth held by you, we have written the present letter, as we have often supplicated before, and now supplicate again. Show, my son, an ending to your words that is worthy of the glory that becomes you; fulfill your promises, so that God may be glorified, your name may become immortal among posterity, and Christ’s double flock, namely the Bulgarians and the Romans, escaping spiritual and bodily destruction, may obtain physical rest along with spiritual salvation. For your great wisdom knows that the Romans and Bulgarians are not only wretchedly losing their physical life ^B while slaughtering each other, but—alas for me in my wretchedness—are being deprived of their spiritual life. Yes, my son, let us quench the flame of anger, which either a wicked demon or senseless men have kindled. I have even seen kinds of irrational animals move with anger, rushing at each other and fighting, but they ceased from anger and fighting and returned to a gentle state. If, then, my son, irrational animals, not possessing reason, yet restrain their anger and know how to put an end to it and to turn toward peace, shall men, whom reason governs, who confess one God, who are called by the one name of Christ our God, because they have moved arms against one another, always move them, glorying in mutual slaughters without end, never judging by reason what is useful for them, nor ever—albeit late—sparing blood? Is this worthy of human nature, formed ^C in the image of God and honored by reason? But why do I lengthen the letter? May what has been written satisfy. For I trust in God that things will turn out as you said when speaking to my humility and to our emperor, beloved of God, your dear brother, and for such merits we pray from God for long life for you, and happiness in this life, and in the future the inheritance of that glory which awaits all who have pleased God.

XXXI. To the same.

I have often written to you what I considered, and still consider, useful and fitting. Today I have written concerning the matters I have already treated; I am writing this final letter, as my heart is pressed by pain because of the common evils by which the people of God, whether Bulgarian or Roman, are being exhausted. For the nation of the Bulgarians is truly the people of God, ^D who redeemed them with His own blood and made them brothers through the adoption of the Holy Spirit, even though you claim for yourself a people who, having power today, tomorrow...

brothers by the adoption of the Spirit; even if you think this is your people, ruling today, and tomorrow to be consumed by worms. ^A I write of these things, therefore, in sorrow, and still more, moved by your own words which, when you arrived here, were brought to my ears from your tongue; for what was said by you was to the effect that we had been moved from our own land for the sake of the good and great matter of peace.

But you were saying these things privately to us, when at first we entered into conversation with you privately; and then when it happened that you conversed with our God-crowned Emperor, and were receiving the bounty of the gifts from him, I remember you saying such things as that no more would the deeds of war be wrought upon us, nor would we any longer have need of the tunic provided for the needs in wars, and other things concerning the complete dissolution of the war and the restoration of peace. ^B You hold the memory of this in your conscience, you spoke these things then: these things move me to write this final letter. Where, then, as I speak to you as if present, are the promises of your words? What has become of that blessed peace in those words, the mere rumor of which, having spread into the region of the Bulgarians and into that of the Romans, moved every tongue to thanksgiving to God? In every man a good character is recognized in this—in honoring the truth; but in a man who is a ruler, who ought to excel in magnanimity, nothing else contributes so much to the glory and dignity of authority as the truth of words and the truthfulness of what is promised. See, then, if it is appropriate for you, who lay claim to glory and magnanimity, to be fickle and to leap from word to word while possessing nowhere any firm and steady footing. ^C I had intended to write many such things to you, but perhaps the argument, if extended in length, will seem troublesome, and for this reason we omit them. But concerning the reproaches and insults against us, which you, in the presence of our God-crowned Emperor, while reproaching us and insulting us, and after a fashion despising our wretchedness, were whispering—from that source I address you now. For you were saying, in mockery of us, that your horse had received the blow in the war instead of you; and adding to this a definition of us, you said that this had been the work of our prayers; and when we defended ourselves, saying that we were conscious of no such thing, having neither instigated a war nor prayed for such a thing, you yourself countered that for us, established upon the high-priestly throne, there was the power to prevent the war, or if not, for the time being to expel from the church those who would not obey the exhortations. I know that you will recognize these things, and you wish that the irony and the accusations against us be in your words. Hear, then, also what I speak to you concerning these things, and for the time being lower for me the arrogance of your authority, and with temperate ears listen to the words ^D of an old and humble high priest, and understand them.

What is this about the blow of the sword having been dealt against the horse, while you were saved? I am a man, and already by old age my faculties have been diminished, but also in other ways; being a man, I am, by much, lacking in wisdom—for I acknowledge my own weakness—but this, that the blow was not dealt against you, but against the beast—consider the words of the old and humble high priest.

What is this? ...since you who at that time...

^A held the mastery of affairs, made a movement against you without reason, you met with favor from above, and the unreasonable and unjust impetus of those who were then moved turned the blow of the sword away from you, and the blow was carried toward the beast—so that you might again be taught not to revel in the victory with mindless arrogance, but to remember human affairs and be modest; and not to be wholly occupied with what seems to be good fortune, but to turn your mind also toward the misfortunes that befall men. ^B Consider, then, lest the war now impending should have you as the cause, and the blow, which I pray may not happen, should reach not the horse, not the beast, but you. Read carefully what I have written, and from these things go back to the older histories; for I know that you also study these. Rise up, and do not think that victory is always with you, but count that defeat follows close at the heels; but so much for our irony.

The things we write to you henceforth are such as we also write to our pious and Christ-loving emperor and to his senate, day by day, both exhorting and entreating our Christ-loving emperor, for the sake of the slaughter of his people and the slaughter of the Bulgarian race, to grant still more, with patience and forbearance and with the providence from above, a part to his own humane disposition, and not to make an all-out expedition against the Bulgarian nation. Perhaps through your forbearance God will touch the heart of the one who rules the Bulgarians, and he will look to the good of peace, and will love the ancient state of it. And our humane and gentle and good emperor—you certainly do not suspect what we say; for you have known by your own experience his leniency and the mildness and gentleness of his soul—is persuaded ^C and yields to our words. But the whole senate, and with it the whole city—and why do I say the city? all who are under the yoke of his empire, being stirred, say that they no longer endure such madness of the Bulgarians, nor will they ignore the destruction of their own kin and relatives, nor will they submit to die; rather, this is more desirable than the captivity of their own lands. But even if you endure the arrogance of the Bulgarian in this way, you must henceforth be convinced that all the armies, and all who have a hand that can be moved, will, together with the just alliance of God, stand against you, since you are persisting and loving the evils that come from war.

But with all truth I have declared to you the things being prepared here. And you, since you are being persuaded, first, by an old man, and one who looks to nothing else but the grave, and then, if even by an unworthy one, yet a minister of the holy altar, and if any affection of ours has been held in regard by you, and see how long it is since we became friends: accept the exhortations which our religious emperor has promised to accept, and he will keep his promise if you too wish to think the same as he. Love peace, hate wars; for wars against external enemies are themselves evil. ^D And as for those against fathers, against brothers, against friends, against those of the same faith, who call upon the same God and Lord,

^A what can one say? Do you not often see wild beasts fighting among themselves and then returning to peace? Look to these, and seek peace. The word is not mine, but the Holy Spirit’s; and "pursue it"—that is, run after it, seize it, and put an end to the common sufferings, and the tears, and the groanings, and the curses which all men, Bulgarians and Romans, rich and poor, monastics, priests, and laymen, call down upon you. For against our pious and Christ-loving emperor, no one has any charge to bring since he sat upon the throne of the empire; he seeks peace, and entreats it, and bows down solely because of the evils of war. For even should victory come to one side, it is not without danger that victory is gained by the victor; for he must necessarily have lost kinsmen, friends, and kin in the victory. Such are the indiscriminate and ^B confused things of war. You know what we mean, from what you yourself have suffered; you have lost many of those dearest to you, whose memory, even now, lacerates your heart, and the pains caused by them do not let you enjoy the victory purely.

But let us come to the end of the letter. Our Christ-loving emperor, although he is urged by the senate, and by the whole government, and by his generals and leaders to launch a campaign against you, nevertheless, as being gentle, he yields to the exhortations of our humility, and has expressed himself to us in these terms: "Father, I seem to stand in a certain middle ground and to be pulled apart, with the state pulling from one side, and your episcopal dignity pulling toward itself." Since matters are so, I reply to you: ^C "Write to our brother that we will give him as much gold and as many garments as can be or as is fitting, or indeed whatever else it would be becoming to contribute to his assistance. If he is willing to strike a peace, you have us in readiness, and we will refuse nothing you urge."

Therefore we write to you, invoking a bond in the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, that you signify to us both the quantity of gold you ask for, and the number of garments you require. In all things, however, let one who is ^D becoming to the magnificence of your authority and to your counsel confer and consider; and indeed, whatever else it is fitting for you to ask and for the emperor to grant, add that to the gold and the garments, and you shall obtain that provision too. And once these things are provided to you, become a man of peace, be a man of ancient love; let Bulgarians and Romans become again of one brotherly accord and same mind, and let the architect of enmity from the beginning be cast down; but let Christ our God be glorified, He who through His cross destroyed the wall of enmity and brought peace to His own world, with the Roman empire recovering its own possessions, and the Bulgarians holding their own safely and without fear, with every occasion of scandal now removed, peace confirmed, and both peoples obtaining a blessed life. May Christ our God grant this, abolishing the devil's envy and his wings

and covering in tranquility his inheritance, for which he gave as a price the holy and life-giving blood of his most immaculate side.

Letter XXXII

What shall we write, most honorable brothers? Shall we groan over the evils which our Church has suffered, or shall we give thanks to God for the benefits which we have experienced from His mercy? Shall we write a song of glorification and praise, or of the vexations plotted against us? Shall we address to you a brotherly reproach, or a just accusation of the evils which have brought you to reproach us? For those varied crises, the cause of which has fallen into obscurity, have been turned against us. But we shall put forward expressions of gratitude, praises, and songs of glorification, because the difficulties which had seized our Church due to our own sin have been resolved. The other matters have as their cause a gathering of evils, which, springing up at once with groanings, sorrows, reproaches, and accusations, gave place, like certain wicked offshoots, for them to sprout. A detailed explanation of these ^B would lead our letter to a tedious length; knowing this is troublesome, we wished to avoid it, but since the nature of things compels us, we write what it would not be worthy to overlook. We shall take our starting point from where the origin of these evils for us began.

The excellent and to me most dear Emperor, having barely become a widower of a third wife, went—as he ought never to have done—to attempt a fourth. Although, while his soul was torn by the death of three wives, he should not have come to such a decision at all; but as it seems, victory was with the worse side, and the evils were victorious. And having become altogether captured by this absurd desire, he sought to bring in a fourth wife, which no one before him—I do not say of kings, but not even of those who hold the highest place in the magistracy or even of mere palace servants—had ever done. I shall not speak now of the prohibition of the divine canons or of the other penalties ^C which are established with the utmost rigor against such an abominable union. But in truth, the force of desire prevailed, and the fourth wife lured the Emperor—otherwise an honorable man, but in this matter badly overcome—to herself, under the pretext, of course, of the infant she had borne him. Yet it was easy to take up the infant, if, moved by some human affection, he was held by love for the boy, but to repudiate the mother, whom he had not from the beginning known in a lawful manner, although he could have supported her in whatever way he wished; for birth following an illegitimate union does not make it valid. For if those most closely joined by blood—such is the depravity of men—to procreate children ^D

they shall not be permitted ^A to marry for this reason. But the Emperor, seizing on this as an excuse for procreation, cast aside—even if he did not utter straightforward words—thoughts about his wife. Yet when he saw the whole Church under our care taking a stand against this—for the matter appeared utterly alien to the faith of Christians, and especially when they looked to the eminence of the person involved—he yielded a little, and we began to have hopes that the evil would not prevail. But this happened before the child's baptism; for it pleased all the archbishops and priests ^B to refuse us the baptism of the child, and specifically to refuse to grant the royal honor the father requested, unless a promise was first taken from him that he would send the woman away. And as this was mentioned several times, he concealed the intent of his soul, and by lips providing a sworn assurance that he had cast off the woman, he obtained what he desired for the child, and the child was baptized as was dear to him. But hear what happened from that point on. Not even three days had passed since the baptism, and the mother was being led into the palace, escorted by the royal guard, and, as is customary for the king’s wife, ^C the promises and oaths which he had made to be rid of her were scattered to the winds, or rather, were raised up in the likeness of a great evil. For by now, it was no longer with words, but with deeds that he maintained matters regarding the woman, while the royal marriage—as it was considered—was performed. For when the crown itself was being placed upon the woman, neither we, nor any other archbishop, performed the customary priestly blessing; but the king himself acted as if he were her husband and archbishop, ^D performing the blessing at the crowning and placing the crown upon her. And this took place, and the whole city, not only the archiepiscopal and priestly order, but as if the entire faith had been overturned, was utterly disturbed.

What then was I to do? To rest and fall asleep? Or, as is expected of a friend, to be concerned for his honor and the state of the Church, and to think and act accordingly? This was our struggle, with God. On the one hand, we counseled those who held the helms of affairs not to suffer what happens to those who sail without a rudder, but to bear the calamity with patience, having our hope in Christ our God. On the other hand, I grasped the knees—nay, even the feet—of the King; I implored him as a friend, I adjured him as a king, not to think that the powerful are permitted to do anything they wish, but to consider that there is One sitting above his dominion, He who poured out His immaculate blood for the Church. I added also these words: "You should have, my child and King—since you excel in the love of God and are divinely adorned with wisdom and the other virtues—been content with the three marriages; for perhaps even the third was unworthy of your empire, but at least that one had an excuse in the agreement made with the Frankish King, since you had promised to betroth your only daughter to him. Moreover, she was the niece of Bertha, to whom the evils to which he succumbed have happened. And since it has been agreed that your daughter should depart for Francia, and the woman must be present in the palace

to manage the affairs pertaining to the wives of your officials, ^A a third marriage is permitted, since the daughter was in a state to leave the paternal home. Moreover, the sacred canons do not entirely forbid third marriages, but they allow them, even if, as one might say, they wink at them as something sordid and unworthy of the Church. But as for a fourth marriage—a matter even the Hagarenes know of, even if not regarding the divorce of wives—what defense will there be? To what pretext will it be possible to have recourse, especially when the crime is compared to the supreme dignity which you enjoy? ^B A king, they say, is an unwritten law, not so that he may act lawlessly and do simply what pleases him, but so that he should be such, through his unwritten works, as the written law is. For if a king is an enemy and an adversary to the laws, who will fear the laws? Does it not follow necessarily that the laws which a prince has broken in a hostile manner will also be held for nothing by his subjects, even if no one is forced to do so? And where a certain necessity and drive, especially that of nature, is added, how will they not incline to the same way of thinking and acting to which they see their supreme ruler indulging?

Having said these things, I continued in this way: Consider, I beg you, the sun and the stars, and how when one of them is deprived of its splendor, it is a matter of almost no moment; but when something of the sort happens to the sun, the whole world is necessarily ^C enveloped in darkness. Likewise, if other members of the body are polluted with dirt, whether the filth is hidden or not does not matter much for shame; but if by chance the face is fouled with uncleanness, it cannot be that we are not suffused with the greatest shame. Do not, therefore, since you are the face—or rather the head—of God’s great inheritance, put the body of Christ to shame, or cause it to be shamed even among the infidels, by providing them with an occasion for evil reproach against your dignity and majesty. I said these things and many others, the memory and inclusion of which are superfluous; suffice it to say that I spoke, I supplicated, I entreated. But when I saw that his will could by no means be bent by these discourses, I approached him in this way: ^D O king and son, since it has seemed good to your majesty to take a fourth wife in marriage, without any regard for the indecorum of the matter, accept now from a father and a friend who loves you with the highest affection this advice: Let the wife live privately and not dwell with your majesty, and let the prelates of old Rome and the other pontifical sees, and others who are eminent in episcopal dignity and bring honor and distinction to the priestly office, be summoned. By the judgment and sentence of these gathered together, since it seems so to you, perhaps that which you seek will be held as ratified, if, indeed, by this calamity another, much more serious, is not introduced—namely, the perturbation of the Church, which the preaching of the Church has hitherto suppressed with the greatest vigor and prudence, so that there may be hope that, after a synod has been held, the interdiction of that depraved and illegitimate marriage will be accepted. But all things remained deaf, because love’s in-

impetus ^A had closed his ears, or rather his soul; wherefore he said that he would not only not wait until a synod could be held, but that he would not separate himself from her even for a single day, and that he ordered her to be held as a legitimate spouse and honored with royal honors, and that when the synod was finished, he would confirm what seemed good to him.

Eight or nine months after those nuptials were contracted, which afflicted our entire Church with sorrow, the legates of Old Rome arrived. The King, however, had ordered it to be publicly proclaimed that he had summoned the Roman men to approve his marriage. But how indeed could our Church not bear heavily the fact that these things were openly proclaimed by him, such that he set our affairs at naught, to the point that he even conferred the administration of our province, owed to us by ancient sanctions established by the Fathers, upon others, and this in a matter canonically forbidden and condemned? For how could it be lawful, how could it be consistent with the state of the Church, that we should be cast down from the power granted by God, and that others should administer what it was not even permitted to us to perform due to the prohibition of the canons? But he boasted that those were coming by whom he would gain his desire, even if the canons forbade it. Moreover, we are not ignorant that a rumor was falsely spread, as if we, puffed up with pride, were unwilling to come into the sight or into speech with the Roman legates. But I affirm before God, in whose presence the scatterer of this rumor now stands, and we perhaps shall stand today or tomorrow—I affirm, I say, that I told him: "Our priests are reluctant to meet the Romans publicly, and they refuse entirely, being terrified by your words, repeated again and again, that the Romans will grant you what you seek, even if no one else is willing to give it. Therefore, I suggest to you that you order them and us to meet in the palace, so that, gathered before you, we may see and greet one another, and at the same time hear what they wish."

But this man looked to one thing only—I mean our exile—and ^B he eagerly seized every opportunity to pour out his bile against us. ^C Therefore, he did not at all accede to my proposal, nor did he allow us and them to meet in the palace. Thus, while matters were in suspense, and while agreement still prevailed in the Church, neither any bishop nor any priest gained access to him, nor was able to meet with him. But when, shortly after, having enticed them with gifts and ambitious promises, he had separated our own kin and friends from us and had drawn them to his own side, as if he had enrolled his own private troops, then he brought into the light what he had still been turning over in his mind in secret. He invites us, therefore, to celebrate the feast with him in the palace with a banquet, as was the custom: for it was the solemnity of the great martyr Tryphon. ^D Amidst the feast, as we were having it, he had us put upon a ship

and, stripped of all attendance, thrust into exile. He did not permit me to take with me any garment, or coverlet, or book, or person by whose solace I might be refreshed, except for two illiterate and uncultured little men, who seemed so useless as to be almost unaware of their own existence. In this state he surrendered me to exile. How shall I recount the rest? The rigor of winter, the destitution of all things, the violence of my guards? For swords and bows and shields surrounded me as if I were an enemy, not as if I were a wretched high priest who was allowed to look neither upon the sky, still less upon a human being, and who was compelled to take sleep upon straw, deprived of any coverlet. Nor indeed were we alone, but whoever of the priestly order held sounder views concerning the Church were held fast, ^B vexed by chains, exile, hunger, and thirst, deprived of all comfort from kin and friends, nor was it permitted them to look out from the prisons in which they were miserably enclosed as though they were criminals.

Meanwhile, the Romans who had come here to settle the matter, just as if they had been delegated by Rome to declare war on us, added their vote to our exile, neither waiting for our defense, nor wishing to hear anything from us—though, if anyone else were to do this, they themselves surely ought to have done the opposite, upholding the prerogative of ecclesiastical dignity, especially since they were embroiled in this very thing and were about to set out to you to report how matters had transpired. And if they were unwilling to approach us, they should at least have interrogated and scrupulously examined one of those who were involved in our same calamity, ^C so that they might bring a true report to you. But they were so far from defending a bishop who was suffering such things and was exposed to persecution because he would not permit the Church—or rather, the whole body of Christians—to be defiled by the sin of fornication, and had reached such a point that he judged death to be preferable to life, that instead of vindicating him, instead of adding their support, instead of taking the side of justice, they chose to join in tyranny with those who had acted tyrannically against us, and to align themselves with those who had used force. They joined in the vote against our tyranny—I know not what had possessed them; for I do not wish to say that they themselves, having been tyrannized beforehand by the powerful tyranny of gold, and not only that, but also having gathered a mass of lies and deceit from our enemies, came to you as accusers of matters ^D of which they knew neither that they had happened, nor that they had any existence at all, but which were merely figments of an evil mind, enslaved by gold. But let us grant that it is perhaps bearable for two or three men to be led into error, whether through wicked fraud or an unrestrained tongue that believes everything is permitted to it on account of power or some other cause; but that the whole Church should be deceived and subjugated by fallacious words and nothing but the vanities of this world—who could bear that with an even mind? Who, therefore, ever heard such a judgment as the Roman Church, as they say—or rather, those who seem to represent it in Constantinople—has in these days passed against us, or rather, ignominiously against itself? And do not take it ill what I say: for whatever is not good

^A must be censured, since however much words may be silent, deeds themselves beget censure.

Now in truth, it is fitting to review, first, the false accusations brought against us and how you judged them, and then what you have done against the Church through your governing authority. Petitions were brought around against us, and whether they contained something true or false, no one knows: for how can it be known, when there was no opportunity for an investigation to allow the accused to defend themselves? Yet even among barbarians and lawless peoples, a custom has prevailed that no accused person is condemned unless he first appears and answers the charges ^B brought against him. Even Christ, our God, when the lawless Jews shouted against him, before he underwent their wicked sentence, was brought before the Sanhedrin and asked to defend himself. But your judgment, brothers, as it appears here and in old Rome, proceeds by another path, which I do not wish to speak of now, but which the coming time will reveal with a clear voice, since it far exceeds all human prudence and power.

But as for what concerns us, let it be held of little account. For what does it matter if I, as a miserable little man, ^C and perhaps not even worthy to breathe the air, am driven from my throne and condemned to exile, so that I might escape the deaths that befall me daily? But how could you fail to show respect—how could you not consider—the honor of the Church, the dignity of the faith, the reverence of the sacred canons, and the sacred tradition from above? I do not know by what authority you have acted, or from where you received it, that you have brought fornication into the Christian religion, not noticing that, immediately during the very beginnings of the newborn Gospel, when the apostles ^D were decreeing concerning the strangled and the idol-sacrifices, they decreed that fornication was entirely forbidden. And as for the vessel of election, who does not know how many exhortations he gave that no one should fall into the crime of fornication, not only those numbered among the clergy, but also the lay multitude, unless indeed one is entirely alien to the Church and deaf to his oracles? For this reason, I do not even repeat here what he said concerning fornication, so as not to appear to be doing what is superfluous, by declaring things that are hidden to no one. How, therefore, when the crime of fornication is condemned by all, did it please the Romans to add the weight of their sentence, by which we, separated from the flock and treated like evildoers, are punished for the reason that, following the judgment of the apostles and the vote of the holy Fathers, we submit fornication to the same condemnation?

Be it so, they say; but the matter is marriage, and not fornication. Marriage, O venerable procurer of brides, and one who honors marriage? Do you conceive of marriage not according to the law given by God, but according to a law I know not where written? Do you call that union, contracted with a fourth wife because of an excessive goad of passion, a marriage? Where have you found this marriage, bringing it into the holy nation of Christians, into the imperial...

^A inheritance? Is it in any Gospel, or in an Apostolic Constitution, or in a tradition such as has held authority in the Church from the beginning of the Christian religion? The great Paul says: “The marriage is honorable in all, and the bed undefiled.” Now if your marriage is such, why do the sacred canons cast out from the Church him who has succumbed to such a fault? If it is truly marriage, and nothing else at all, why do they call such a union a brutal luxury and alien to human nature? For other illicit cohabitation is designated by the simple name of fornication, but this is said to be a brutal affection and one that has overstepped human limits.

But it does not seem so to the Romans; it is reported that it is conceded among them. For there are those who say—whether they are praising you in this or blaming you, I do not know—that among you a fourth, and a fifth, and beyond that another is permitted; indeed, that when the sixth wife is dead, another, and after her yet another, can be taken, so that this inexhaustible dispensation, or rather luxury, proceeds among you to the very jaws of the grave. They lead the cause of this abominable luxury to the great Apostle who said: “It is better to marry than to burn.” Oh, the wondrous wisdom of those who understand these words in this way! How beautifully they know how to scrutinize the Pauline mind! Truly, the teacher of the entire world teaches that one must satisfy the desire of the flesh entirely, while he says: “The fashion of this world passes away, so that those who have wives may be as though they had none, and I wish all to be as I am.” But that he does not even permit men to fly to second ^B marriages, his own words demonstrate: “But I say to the unmarried and to the widows, it is good for them to remain so: but if they cannot contain, let them marry”; to widows he indeed permits a second union because of the weakness of the sex, but to widowers in no way, and only regarding those who have not yet experienced the yoke of matrimony does he say it is better to marry than to burn.

If, therefore, the union with a fourth wife is marriage, and not rather fornication—when, however, it is something worse than that, namely, luxury, as it seems to the most divine Clement—then permit the cohabitation also. But if this is permitted, where will that phrase have a place: “It is better to marry than to burn”? But now hear what Clement says, the disciple and auditor of the chief Peter, and not some inferior one, nor one who lived among men a long time after him: “Monogamy is agreeable to nature and law, since it relies upon divine commandment; digamy after a promise is unlawful, not because of the union, but because of the lie; trigamy is a sign of incontinence; and that which exceeds trigamy is manifest fornication and undoubted incontinence”; and do you honor it with the name of marriage? The luminaries of the Church, whose light of teaching and of actions ^C into [all the world shone forth, call it beastly and alien to nature; and... ^D

they call such a life swinish. And do you command men to use such a great abomination as a marriage? How wonderful you are in your providence, teaching those instructed by you to live in holiness and worthily of Christ's calling! O man, "no one will see the Lord without holiness"; but how could holiness belong to one who is defiled by impure fornication? And another said: "Hating even the garment spotted by the flesh." What else does this mean but that we must flee the stains of fornication?

But ^B you say, "It is an emperor who seeks a fourth wife, and one must yield to imperial desire." Truly, you honor the crown of the empire in a wonderful way, and bestow upon it a splendid glory! Or is it because he ranks above all others in dignity that he must therefore be dirtier and more dishonored than everyone else? You appear to me to be more concerned that the feet be clean than the head, taking care that the former do not step in mud, while not caring if the latter is covered in filth. But I suspect that this will not seem so to those who know how to distinguish between greater and lesser matters. For the position of the empire is indeed a great thing, and it is necessary to obey emperors and not to resist their commands. But that applies to those commands in which the dignity of the empire shines forth, when it commands one to act righteously; this is a truly imperial command, and one must not gainsay it. Does he command to take up arms against enemies? Does it seem to him to contribute something to the common benefit? One must honor that decree with every zeal. Does he command some other thing that brings about the preservation and honor of the authority, and of those who are under his hand? One must do what is commanded swiftly. These are imperial things; and it is necessary, or rather unavoidable, to be ready to listen to them. But if, again, he commands—like the wicked suggestions of the devil—that we act impiously against God? This is not imperial; and therefore faith is not to be given to him, but rather it must be held for naught as an impious command from an impious man. Does he command to calumniate, or to kill some people by treachery, or to break up other men's marriages, or to unjustly take away the property of others? Not even this belongs to imperial authority, but to a thief, a slanderer, an adulterer, and a robber. And if any man ^C is a lover of God, and honors the Divine and the empire granted by Him upon the earth, he would not be persuaded by such filthy commands, but would rather choose to lose his life than to become a servant to the one who orders such things to be done.

But, alas! ^D while human nature has a downward inclination and wickedness holds many as its slaves and followers, are you unaware that the governed are naturally inclined to look to the ruler as if to an example? And why do I say this? Even when the ruler lives with all propriety, we nevertheless see those who are governed swept away by a contrary impulse, since the human will is always carried toward matter and things that are below, because of the ever-running human inclination toward the lower things. For this reason laws are established, because not even the example of a good ruler is sufficient to make men better, so that by the fear of the laws

^A God raises someone to a magistracy, a kingdom, or some other dignity, not so that, because he has been honored by God more than others, he should bring shame and disgrace upon himself and the One who bestowed the honor, nor so that he might show the divine judgment as if it were false and erroneous concerning himself, but so that by his own virtue he might appear worthy of the divine sentence, and while he takes care to promote the glory of God, he might also acquire praise for himself. But if anyone, because he has obtained greater honor from God, thinks that it is all the more permitted for him to despise the divine laws, he is unaware that he is slipping into a likeness of those brute beasts that run riot through satiety. It is a wicked opinion, therefore, and most wicked to say that because one is a king, he is granted leave to sin, a thing which he would not grant to any of his subjects. "The mighty will be mightily examined," says one of the wise somewhere. But if this is so, where will your indulgence find a place? Even for a common soldier and a general who have failed in one and the same matter, the punishment will not be the same, but the general will have a punishment corresponding to the magnitude of his rank, while the soldier will be punished according to the measure of his station. In the same way, the stable-boy and the helmsman, and if you will, the slave and the master, even if they have failed in the same transgression, will not be subject to the same accusation and condemnation, but account will be taken of their rank.

^C But the Roman prelate has sanctioned a dispensation in this matter, and it is not right to resist such a dispensation, but to honor what has been sanctioned. What are you saying? Is it permitted for the Romans to sanction that someone who breaks the laws should not pay the penalty, or should touch holy things with impure hands? Is it permitted for the Romans to bring back those who, because of an impiety, were cast out from a divine temple, before it has been cleansed, to the place from which they were rightfully and deservedly exiled? You would indeed have attained great power, such as not even He who took away the sins of the world arrogated to Himself, to say nothing of any of His holy disciples or any of the ecclesiastical teachers. For He came to take away our sins, but only on the condition that we cease from sinning, and that we do not persist in them, nor continue to commit with impunity the things for which He makes the taking away. For I hear Him saying to the man whom He had healed: "Behold, you are made whole; sin no more." ^D Observe how He forbids, and does not permit, those who have been deemed worthy of His mercy to sin. In the same way, neither Peter, nor Paul, nor any other person was ever seen to overlook the sin while promising the sinner immunity from responsibility for his sinning. Where then did you find this absurd dispensation, which does not diminish the gravity of the sin, but rather increases it? Which does not bring forth salvation, but delivers to destruction? Which does not cleanse, but adds more filth? Who has ever, up to this day, known such a dispensation? For a dispensation is a salutary condescension that saves the sinner, extends a hand of help, and raises up him who has fallen from his tumble, not one that suffers him who has been cast down by a fall to lie there, or rather, cruelly thrusts him into a pit. A dispensation is an imitation of divine charity, which from the jaws of the beast against the one who is involved in it, rescues him so that from...

^A its deadly mouth he might be swallowed; and a dispensation does not rescue by any means the one who commits sin, but rather the one who removes himself far from its method and declines its pursuit.

If, therefore, this matter is not a sin, nor is the fourth marriage fornication—nay, more than fornication—have you then changed its nature? But let this attempt redound upon your own head, by which you have decided that sin should not be held as sin. Perhaps there exists some other precept which we do not know and shall never know; for God forbid that we should ever learn a perverse doctrine by which it is sanctioned that sin is not sin. But if the nature of sin is as it is, and always remains the same, and no one is able to change it in any way—so that fornication can never be said not to be fornication, or lasciviousness, or a brutal and swinish life, to be anything other than what it truly is and is called—what is this paradoxical, nay, pernicious dispensation which you make unto your own damnation, and much more unto the condemnation of him who through your dispensation now thinks it allowed for him to live luxuriantly? To perish is always a bad thing, even if we perish through ignorance; but to be carried toward ruin with ^B subtleties and sophistries, how great an evil shall it be reckoned? I, too, if anyone trusts me, or rather trusts the sacred canons, admit penance for sinners, and I grant dispensation, but one that commands them to desist from ^C sins, not one that permits them to persist in them. For where sin has a place perpetually and without intermission, it is impossible that he who grants permission to continue in sin should contribute anything to the salvation of the sinner, since he appears rather to mock and deride than to dispense aid.

How, then, do some flee to ancient and past things, to which those who lived then, although they were absurd, were indulgent? I say, first, that there is no just cause why they should flee thither, where they find neither divine approval, nor the laudable consensus of men; for how could God favor or men assent to shameful things, by which those who strive for them cannot avoid ^D blame? Secondly, it appears unworthy to me if posterity proposes to itself as an example to be imitated that which ancestors did dishonestly; for thus, even unwittingly, we would introduce among ourselves many things that ought to be vituperated and punished; but this is by no means the way of men who love God and devote themselves to a virtuous life. It is therefore to be condemned if, looking back at the things which our elders did badly, we think it permitted for us also to sin; or because some, as men, allowed themselves to be swept away into evil deeds, we should therefore also wish to follow evil wherever it appears. Nay, if any wrong was done long ago, it will be much better to think and say that it behooves us to do these things well and as is fitting, since it is agreed among all that worse things are by no means

to be imitated; nay, it is our duty, once the worse things are known, to strive as much as in us lies not to be carried away by the same, but rather to incline toward better things.

What, then, dost thou recount to me Valentinian or any other person whatsoever? For if that person’s deed is worthy of praise, we ought to imitate it, so that we may render ourselves worthy of the same praise: but if it is to be censured and reprobated, why dost thou urge me to do things that redound to the reproach of both thee and me? But, thou sayest, the most holy Damasus admitted it. ^A If thou acceptest this admission with all thy soul and thinkest that it is well, why dost thou not also proceed so far as to decree that it is permitted to have two wives at the same time? But thou declinest this dogma, nor does it seem so to thee. If, therefore, thou dost not proceed so far, it is apparent that thou dost refute the matter itself and deem the admission to be not good. Aaron once fashioned the calves, and God permitted this, since he [Aaron] did not pay the penalty. But indeed the impunity of Aaron did not profit those who later fashioned calves, so that they should not pay the penalties for this crime. Dost thou see how those whose affairs are in a bad state gain nothing from it if they take refuge in the sins of their ancestors? For what good would it be if civil laws and divine canons were brought forward, if we were to imitate those things which once prevailed, entirely with impunity? Indeed, they are brought forward for this reason: so that men who fall into ancient sins may not be able to use this excuse: "That which I have sinned, this is common to me with some one of the ancients."

This pretext, therefore, does not absolve, brethren, those who take refuge in it and on that account attempt to establish a fourth marriage, but rather it condemns them, because they are eager to manage the ^B affairs of the Church—which ought always to be most straight—not by a straight, but by an oblique way. Furthermore, if any of thy servants, when he has defiled a house or a garment, referring himself to another who had done the same before, were to say: "Since another of my fellow servants committed the same, therefore it was permitted to me also to do this," thou wouldst not admit this excuse, but wouldst chastise and whip him because he proceeded to such license, when he ought rather to have taken heed for himself against such a crime after the error of his fellow servant. But dost thou think that those things which are done wickedly in the Church are to be confirmed and excused by the example of the ancients? ^C And dost thou judge otherwise concerning thy affairs and thy house, and otherwise concerning those things which pertain to the Church, and because such sins were once condoned and neglected, dost thou order them to be neglected even now? But who of sound mind would say that thou actest justly? But if there are any who presume to compare the grace (of the Gospel) with antiquity and to allege the blessed David, I do not see what this can profit them, unless they also bring before us Jacob with his two wives, who were sisters, or, if it pleases, even Samuel, who dipped his sword in the blood of Agag, and circumcision and sacrifices, and whatsoever things history has reported to us to have been in use among the ancients.

^A Since many other things also occur that are relevant to the matter, yet so that this little writing might not be extended beyond what is proper, it seems that we should stop here. Omitting, therefore, those things which can still be said, I add only this: Attend to yourselves, most reverend brothers, and understanding the absurdity of what has happened, and rejecting those things which you illicitly admitted for the sake of human authority, see to it diligently that you promote what is honorable for you and what advances the glory of the Church and of the Christian religion. Do not permit yourselves to be traduced by the mouths of all, as if you, as Romans, introduced a fourth marriage into the holy congregation of Christians for the sake of capturing the favor of the Emperor; for you know well with what impetus and speed evil is carried, and after it has taken its origin from those in power, it cannot easily be suppressed. Thus also a third marriage began to grow strong among men. After it had been admitted for the sake of one, the second imitated the example of the first, and then another, so that it was propagated as if by a vine-layer and has now lapsed into an evil custom. Beware, therefore, lest, although human nature inclines toward this extraordinary marriage, which is unworthy of human dignity, you commend it by your teaching, nor let it be said by posterity that such a base thing took its origin from you who are masters, but convert yourselves to better things. For this kind of conversion, which is done toward justice, is so far from being contumelious to us that it even demonstrates us to be prudent and lovers of virtue, since it affects those who feel this way not with shame but with honor. Moreover, it is to be hoped all the more that you feel this way, the more certainly it is established that this whole matter took its origin from fraud and malevolence, since those to whom these things were dear drew you, unwitting, into wickedness. Nor is it a wonder that—since you are human—you fell into error through fallacies; but it would be more wonderful if, while you promise to direct others onto the right path, you neglected this duty toward yourselves. But do not be troubled by this duty, if you shall have abolished as null and struck with anathema the things which have happened and have cast the cause of such scandal into the Church of God, and which drove you to such blameworthy deeds. ^D This, however, we do not say concerning the good Emperor—that God may avert it!—nor concerning your predecessor Sergius, that they should be struck by anathema. For concerning the good Emperor, he has already reached the end of life, received into divine arms, and, according to the kindness of God, as it is permitted to believe, he has been absolved of condemnation and anathema, having become conscious of his own sin and having obtained through his prayers the pardon and release from the condemnation to which we had subjected him. For he has returned to us the congregation from which we had been driven, and he has permitted us to institute and manage everything according to how we judge it to be pleasing to God and in agreement with the holy sacred canons. But since your predecessor has already departed from this life and is about to render an account of his administration to the primary and supreme Pontiff, there is by no means any need that these many human things be...

^A fixed. Both are therefore to be removed, and from the remainder who still survive, demand the punishment they have incurred. For it is not only we who have written to you of the depravity they employed, but also the supreme and Christ-loving emperor has ordered to be brought to your notice everything that they craftily plotted, so that nothing of what they performed by mendacious artifice might be hidden from you; for that illustrious master has indicated to you by letter both the evils they conceived in their mind and the even worse things they published in writing. By all of which the truth has shone forth so clearly that you must now reject their lies, condemn the deeds that ought never to have come to pass, and restore your ancient glory and reputation. Cast, therefore, all that blame upon the head of the offenders, since, as far as it lay with them, they cast a greater stain upon the Roman Church than upon our own. ^B

XXXIII. To Tryphon the monk.

No less a desire to converse with your holiness, and to enjoy your presence and company, dwells in us than the longing by which you yourself, O man of God, are gripped. But since the concurrence of affairs does not allow this to happen bodily, let us satisfy our desire by a better sort of meeting, conversing in mind and enjoying contemplation with the eyes of the soul; for I suppose this is pleasing also to your holiness. That you are suffering from a disease, besides the other things that strike our soul with ceaseless pains on account of our sins, we have received as a new increment of pain. Nevertheless, having become ^C suppliants, we have placed our hope in God our Savior, that before much time has passed your illness will find a cure, provided only that you wish—just as you requested that remedies be sent, which we have indeed sent—to put their usefulness to the test without delay. For it is manifest that the avoidance of every adversity is easy at the beginning; but if anyone ignores its harassment, having gathered strength from time, it does not as readily release those who previously neglected it, but later set themselves to the healing of the vexing evil. It behooves your holiness, therefore, not to use the remedies received from God lazily. For we are entirely of good hope that, if you use them more diligently, the natural restoration of your flesh will return. So much for these things. ^D But you, knowing what kind of things we must endure, tossed as we are by such tempests of events as I know not whether any calamity ever stirred up before, be more prompt and constant in aiding me with your holy prayers.

XXXIV. To the Duke of Greece.

Our beloved son, we know that, by the grace of God, since you are adorned with intellect and prudence, and also with piety, how much regard you have for the honor and good state of the Churches of God—these things even without our exhortation, both in mind and…

of the Churches of God, these things you both contemplate and practice even without our exhortation. However, since the entire care and concern for the Churches rests upon us, we also write to you, which will bring ^A you a heavenly reward and will be to the advantage of the Churches; but for the present, let us be silent about the others. Since we have learned regarding the holy Church of Thebes that the clergy, dissension having arisen among them, instead of being a model of stability for the laity, are themselves stirring up turmoil and fights, and—most miserable of all—are inflicting injuries upon one another, we decree that your prudence shall summon them to unity, and persuade them with words and exhortations to abstain from such disorder; and command those who perform service with the archbishop to protect the catholic Church and to perform the glorification of God therein; but the others, who until now have neither served with the archbishop nor held communion, are to gather by themselves in the other churches, so that in this way the priesthood may remain unconfused until holy God sees fit to build up his holy Church regarding the calamities that have befallen it on account of our sins. For when this occurs, those who have been kept blameless by God in their ministry will not be offended; and those who have suffered some human frailty and have erred will await with good hope the settlement concerning themselves that shall come to pass when our great High Priest and God sees fit to perform it. May the Lord keep you in health, our beloved son, progressing in all good things, well-regarded, and above every injury. ^{B C}

XXXV. To the Duke of Strymon.

I know, our beloved son, that you are adorned with both prudence and intelligence, and that you think regarding the Church of God as it befits a man who loves God and has already been honored and glorified by God, and who hopes to receive from Him glory and honor in the age to come; and perhaps we are doing something superfluous by thinking to exhort your God-loving soul concerning the overseeing of the affairs of the great Church of God, in which you were also glorified by the holy Spirit through the laying on of our humble hands, having received the blessing in the patriciate, in which you also entirely place your hope, that is, in the grace of the most holy Spirit which dwells therein without ceasing. Nevertheless, since we have received a letter from him who presides over its properties, I mean the [prefect] of Strongylizon, providing a reminder to write to your magnificence, to the end that both he and the places of the Church entrusted to him—where there is need—may enjoy your ready hand by having carried out this admonition, we send you these letters; and through them we speak to you as if present, and exhort you not to disregard those who, with an unruly mind and impulse, strive to invade the places of the holy temple of the great God and our Savior, and that you should indeed weed them out from his jurisdiction ^D and bring them instead under your own proper jurisdiction. For they are, as we hear, of this...

wicked disposition, a few people who, it is said, driven by greed alone, do not tremble to tear apart the things of the divine temple and claim them as their own, being in fact temple-robbers ^A and therefore scorners of the holiest Church.

But such are they. You, however, my son, as a prudent man, considering how great is the danger both for those who dare such things and for those who, being able to take action against such daring, do not do so, nor permit others to inflict through such loss upon the Church a loss of their own souls' salvation, do not, by indulging their greed—or rather their sacrilege—constitute yourself, as it were, guilty before the judgment of God. For he who can prevent evil and does not do so, is not far from being guilty of complicity in the condemnation. And if he who does not offer to God from his own possessions incurs blame and censure, how much more he who steals the things of God! By your own prudence, my son, show the zeal that befits your virtue for the Church of God, and the faith you have in it, so that you may both procure for yourself grace from God that is no common thing, and that those who maliciously encroach upon the things of the Church, being restrained from their audacity, may not seem to have obtained any fair right, nor ^B be allowed to let their perverse mind wander into things that are not fitting.

XXXVI. To the Curator of Strongylion.

From the evidence of the letters which you sent to the most holy man of God and oikonomos of the Great Church of God, we have learned that you are troubled and upset, both on account of the complications of business and because you received letters from him some time ago bearing reproofs for you. And we have not heard that you were weighed down by his reproofs—and rightly so, since fatherly reproaches and rebukes toward sons, whatever they may be, provide room for joy ^C for those who have a sound mind, rather than for sadness and affliction. Why? Because he who is subjected to them ought to look to the goal and end of the reproof, and not attend ^D merely to the words. If, therefore, you received the reproof without having erred, you ought to rejoice that the reproof served as a kind of precaution against committing sin; or if he reproved you for having stumbled, then you should have rejoiced even more, because the correction and healing of the fall proceeds from the reproof. Both outcomes are good. And in good matters, a wise man such as you ought not to suffer what one usually feels only in evil and disadvantageous ones. For only such things as these are known to sadden him who thinks wisely. Therefore, put aside the sadness you felt from the letters of the oikonomos, and dismiss these thoughts of despondency, as well as the words refusing the ministry, for which an incomparable reward awaits you who serve rightly and with your whole heart. For you do not look only to the present, being as you are a prudent man, and, as I suspect, having more desire for the future life than for this present one. For you do not at all doubt that

^A there is laid up there a reward from God for those things done for the sake of His Church by those in authority. If, therefore, you display pain and zeal in these matters, so that some benefit might come to them from the grace that is owed, surely you will not be deprived of the reward for these toils; and will you act as one who ignores God, who is over all, regarding your own good will as inferior to Him and allowing these thoughts to enter into a human mind? As I said, cast away this despondency regarding the letter. Concerning the difficulties and troubles of affairs, I wrote to the commander, and I reasoned that it is not right for him to misinterpret what was written by us, but rather that he should provide the assistance and help that is possible, so that, as he is ^B the stronger party, he may apply himself more zealously to the task. When, however, you have approached the commander, make known to him his duty, and write to us, so that, through our authority, we may ensure that you are not lacking in aid or necessary protection. Being of good cheer in these matters also, and applying yourself more zealously to the affairs, and coming to an understanding with the commander regarding his mind, we shall not be second in ensuring you do not fail of assistance, nor of the due providence and protection.

XXXVII. To Stylianos the Deacon.

Precepts and instructions are necessary for those who do not have their own mind as their teacher. But we do not think this concerns you. Therefore, we have refrained from writing to you regarding how to manage the affairs of the Church, since you have once convinced yourselves, first that you look to God and tremble at His judgment, and second that you understand that you are not lacking in human ^C reasoning where it is needed. We have deemed it superfluous to add anything from ourselves regarding the proper administration of Church affairs, whether in the state of the priests or in the care of the fields. We write only this, which you requested: that the sacristy be opened and the charter drawn up, which should not be insulted by the priests of the Church, and which was given by the emperors in times past, and also that everything sacred be visited as is appropriate for the metropolitan see, and that a copy of these be sent to us. When you have completed this, and have not allowed our hopes to be disappointed by your zeal, fare you well.

XXXVIII. To Philetus the Monk.

I, my child, though I am a sinner, pray that all may walk that ^D path which removes them from worldly confusion, and leads them away to salvation and rest. And if it is possible, I am eager to bring this to an end, if not more, then only if what is intended follows upon the disposition, to do what I wish. You are not unaware, O our child, that even without our words, you know the state of affairs, and how we are unable to contribute to the matter. But whatever we might seem to strive for, let it not be a struggle in vain. What then do I say? That in such a time, one must commit everything to God. And the one who is inflamed by the desire for Christ, if indeed he has truly been inflamed by Him, will fulfill...

^A the longing ignited in him by following Christ and our God, by asking also for others to receive a commission concerning the administration of their own affairs; not only permitting this, but even forbidding such anxiety, and leaving to Him and to His untiring providence the care that hangs over him, as He is capable of receiving what worries him and bringing it to a beneficial outcome, and providing him with freedom from distraction. For we look back to ancient generations, and we do not see hope placed in Christ and our God that was subsequently put to shame. We write these things, our child, both as to one who is prudent, and as to one who meditates upon divine things, and as one whom we do not allow to add anything humanly to your request due to the difficulty of the times. Do you, with the benevolence from above, lead forth from the storm of this life him who longs to escape it, through your exhortations and prayers; and we trust in Christ and our God, that as to these things which he is concerned about, their outcome may be for the best. For the rest, be well, and do not cease to pray for our lowliness.

XXXIX. To Gregory, Metropolitan of Ephesus.

Perhaps what we are doing is superfluous. For we are writing what you have heard from our lips; not as it happened, but from the earnestness which you saw when you heard us speaking. Nevertheless, we set forth in this letter to you, though absent, what we said to you when present. Business does not allow us to be distracted. What the fame that is spread among you is, you yourselves know; but what we either hear or clearly perceive, carries with it great power to grieve us. ^C Since, therefore, you are constrained by such things, we write this to you: namely, not to prefer your own business—not even if this of yours is something that could bring help—but to take up, as quickly as you can, the common disturbance of the Church for our sake, and that the same thing may not happen to you as to the Bishop of Cyzicus, who appears to have been entirely forgetful of common affairs and of our mediocrity. O zeal of children toward fathers, and cares, and anxieties—whither at length have you departed? For now, in life, you do not act. Be well, and pray for our mediocrity.

XL. To Malacinus the Patrician.

We were not aggrieved by the reproaches which the letter casts upon us; because we consider even this a great thing, that we were deemed worthy at all of remembrance—men who, on account of our sins, are not even worthy to breathe the air. But that which appeared grievous to us was this: that a man endowed with mind, and skilled in judging matters, should have been led away from the nature of things, and did not attend to reason, but looked only to his own desire. He reproaches what it was not proper to reproach, and that indeed when he has, from previous experience, known our will—at that very time, indeed, when there was no difficulty in declaring our judgment. But if [it is because] he and another obtained something from us, that it stings and goads to reproach, not even this is reasonable. For he is not ignorant...

^A that a wise man [knows] that the occasion has great weight, and that many actions do not turn out according to the will of the administrator, but sometimes even lead him into distress. Knowing these things as one prudent and discerning, dismiss your grievances, and pray for the few days of our life. For you owe this, both for other reasons and because a friend owes prayer for a friend, if it pleases God not altogether to keep us burdened by the weight of afflictions that surround us, but to let us pass our life free from them.

XLI. To Gregory, Metropolitan of Ephesus.

Already suffering and dejected for other reasons, by things which on account of our sins we are oppressed, upon reading the letters of your priestly holiness, there was added yet more distress to the aforementioned things, from which we learned that besides other calamities you have also fallen into illness: especially when we consider the burning of the time which they say is prevalent among you there. This grieved us more vehemently and pains us, even if the hope of divine clemency, suggesting better things, allows us to lift something from the weight of our sorrow; yet this anxiety is not to be borne with annoyance. For your return to the Church committed to you by the Holy Spirit is necessary. However, since things after your departure (I know not how they arrived at such a state ^B of form) require your presence, you must consider the things here as secondary for now, and rather [attend to] the journey towards us. For you know that when things here are flowing favorably, the condition of the whole Church is also good; but when these are faring badly, it is necessary that external affairs fare much worse. Therefore, let this cause you no distress, as has been said; but rather, with God looking on mercifully, and granting, as we at least hope, remission of the illness, do not delay to undertake your duty even without the permission of those who might advise it. As for the document which we promised, it was not delayed or withheld from your hands until now due to any procrastination or change of mind; for it was completed before the holy festival ^C of the great Apostle. But because reports reached our ears announcing your swift return to the city after the festival, this caused the delay. Now, however, we have sent this so that we might also live free from unseemly suspicion. Farewell, therefore, most sacred son, and be mindful in your holy prayers of our humility.

XLII. To the same.

When we received the letter of your priestly holiness into our hands, a certain brief relief from the troubles that hold us came to our soul—both because we were about to encounter the words of a much-desired son and brother, and because we hoped the letter would not bring us that which it brought, which was bitter (for it is sad that children should fare ill); but rather that it would bring pleasant and joyful news, inasmuch as it would indicate that you were well, and that the affairs of our Church in Christ our God were faring better. Now, however, they have indeed revealed ^D of the illness...

and then that there was neither relief nor consolation for my sorrows, which are always present in my prayers; even if, on account of our sins, our prayers for the good order of the Churches have been ineffective. ^A Nevertheless, even if we bear these things, whether willingly or unwillingly, which rend our humble heart, we shall endure them until the inscrutable judgments of God deign to direct these things together with our wretched and unhappy life. But you, our most sacred son, even if your flesh has laboured under infirmities—and perhaps still labours—yet, having possessed your soul as strengthened by the grace of God, do not cease to feed, direct, and lead the flock entrusted to you by the Holy Spirit, through your words, deeds, examples, and exhortations, so that God may be well-pleased through you, and we, humble as we are, hearing of the saving providence of your province, may be lightened of the burden of our despondency. ^B And may you yourself, as a light in the world, holding the word of life, both in the present life demonstrate your works of light to those who love virtue, and in the world to come, as we trust you will, be seen numbered with the heirs of light. For the rest, do not fail in your holy prayers to remember our lowliness.

XLIII. To Andrew, Metropolitan of Patras

^C We are writing this present letter to you, our sacred son, knowing that even without our words your own intelligence knows very well what it befits you to do. Nevertheless, we too, according to the motives by which we are guided, make our own opinion known to you, so that if you find the truth to be consistent with what has been reported to us, you may take a corresponding course of action. For the one who brought the letter reported to us that a certain woman, having been widowed of her husband—which is the mark of a prudent soul—preferred the spiritual life to the worldly life, and, clinging to the tomb of her spouse, brought her own life, along with her other possessions, to Christ our God, while living in the monastic discipline. ^D Yet the malice of men and the envy of the devil have stirred up a great storm for her; you shall provide her with your assistance, and do not allow the bishop, whoever he may be, to do her harm, but rather you shall encourage her to remain in her own state, whether she holds a rank of governance or wishes simply to remain and persevere in the monastery. For it is unjust and exceedingly inhuman to drive such a pious woman from the place where she interred the remains of her husband, and where she brought all her wealth for the salvation of her own soul, and for the maintenance and support of the place. Therefore, as has been said, turn away the heavy and grasping hand of the bishop from there, and teach him not to covet the possessions of others, but if he wishes to be counted among the ministers of God, to provide for those in need because of poverty from his own resources and those coming to him, according to the commandment of the Spirit.

XLIV. To the Duke.

^A And now, as always, we give thanks to the holy God, because, our beloved son, He preserves your life and has directed the state of affairs well; and we trust that He will continue to do so. We pray unceasingly that your imperial virtue may be enriched still further with greater blessings, so that through your noble deeds the divine Name may be magnified, and the common race of believers may enjoy the same, communal beneficence and joy. And may you, our son, in this present life, receive the fruits of your own labors—namely, greater honors and further increase and advancement—and in the world to come be deemed worthy of the common reward of those who have struggled for the sake of Christ and our God and His glory. The things which you sent to us we have received, and we return to you, by way of a blessing, one hundred *alipta*, praying that the divine and unfading fragrance may never leave your soul, but that it may always be fragrant with it, and be pure and superior to all sloth.

XLV. To Arsenios the Monk.

^B Even while your holiness was absent, and not yet known to us, we were joined to you in the Holy Spirit by the bond of His love, moved solely by the fame that proclaimed your virtue. But when we saw you and made trial of you, we loved you and were joined to you even more through spiritual union. And if we have not yet provided a demonstration of such a union realized through concrete deeds, I believe that what will absolve us of censure is the fact that your holiness has indicated nothing that we were able to accomplish, of which you have established a need. For you know that you have put forward no request for things that we are able to provide, nor, if you had, would you have failed to obtain your wish. If, however, it is as you say, the censure pleases me; for between spiritual friends, censures of friends of the same kind are pleasant and useful. And these things, indeed, regarding those matters in which we were thought to have fallen into fault, as if we seemed to have looked down upon your holiness.

^C Concerning the dispute that has been set in motion—and would that every cause of dispute might perish from among men, especially among those to whom spiritual administration has been entrusted!—someone has been sent with a mandate, who, after examining the matters together with the one holding imperial jurisdiction (may the holy God grant that a perfect resolution of these ambiguous points be made), will render a decision. Regarding the rest of the letter, as to what Prince Bardas gave, and as to what you were gifted by the Lord Alexander while still alive, and also as to what has been provided to you by Prince Leo, we know, even without a letter, that if it happened that you were bound by worldly goods, you would in no way remain attached to these riches, but would consider that joy which you have cherished from the beginning and preferred above all else—namely, that companionship with Christ our God—to be a possession far happier than those who possess many acres and very wealthy estates, through which

even now, among those who truly know what is good, you shall be blessed, being abundantly enriched and glorified in the kingdom of heaven with those who are accounted blessed by God.

XLVI. To our most illustrious and beloved son, the renowned prince of the region of Abasgia.

^BWe were grieved at the passing of your most blessed father, as was fitting, considering the wound in your heart from the pain, and also that of all others who know how to love a man adorned with virtue, especially such a one as your father was—celebrated and praised by all. Yet we found relief for our sorrow in the fact that divine Providence judged you, as his genuine offshoot and the fruit of his seed, to take up the power of his principality, and granted that you should be seen by the people as a kind of image of him, in place of the one who departed from this vain life. This has lifted our sorrow and spurred us to render thanks to God; and we have returned thanks, and continue to return them, praying to the divine goodness that you may in no way fall short of your father's virtues, but rather surpass them, and become such a father and prince ^C to your subjects that God’s choice in you may be justified by your deeds, and that you may render your father even more blessed through your own character and nobility, acquiring for yourself a name to be remembered forever in the present age, and in the future, immortal glory, honor, and delight.

We have sent a garment as a token of blessing. But concerning the archbishop of Alania, my son, I have nothing to write. For he himself is intelligent and prudent, and knows his own work—that it is for the salvation of men and for the glory of the great name of God—and surely, even without our letters, because of the reward stored up for the friends of God, you will both assist him and share in his labors. And if he should be in need of any of the necessities for the sustenance of life in such a nation and in a foreign land, you will provide them with a ready mind, as God grants you the means; and may you be even more established in the abundance of such power to be a helper to those in need.

XLVII. To Constantine the neighbor, a letter of consolation regarding his deceased sister.

^DWhen, my blessed son, I consider the affliction that has unexpectedly befallen you and the bitter pain, I myself am reduced to silence, and I know not what to say or what argument I might find capable of consoling either the anguish of my own soul, or you, or your pious mother, or the other relatives and friends whose hearts this bitter suffering tears apart. For in truth, this misfortune that has come upon us transcends all consolation and the comfort of words—alas, how shall I speak of it? For what should one mourn first? The premature fate of her who left us, and her cutting down in the very flower of age, which bitter death did not spare? Or the solitude of her noble husband, who himself, in that same flower, if he has not departed from life, experiences a fate more bitter—

yet has received the wound? ^A And what shall we say regarding separation from you, of her brother, who, because of your sympathetic nature, know how to suffer and grieve not only for her, but even for strangers and those far removed from your kinship? What of your aged mother? Or who, even if she had cause for rejoicing in you, my child—such as you are to her—would not also have had to rejoice in her, a daughter of the same nature? I shall add, too, that as she desired to carry the offspring of her womb in her arms, she would have enjoyed greater delight had she been present in this life and conversing with her.

When I consider all these things together, my most esteemed child, and although it is not easy for any one of them to receive consolation, I know that there is no word or exhortation capable of comforting or providing a cure for the wound. ^B For if anyone, as I have said, were to ponder them each by themselves, they are truly most grievous, and they drag the whole mind down under their weight toward despondency and incurable grief; just as we ourselves suffered when the sorrowful news reached our ears unexpectedly. For when we learned of this, we were so immediately overcome by grief and despondency that we could scarcely utter a voice, nor even bear to hear another speaking to us, so broken was our heart under the weight of the affliction. But later, after much time, having regained our composure, and first of all by observing the common circumstances of nature and what befalls men from the beginning, grounding our minds in the fact that we have undergone nothing new or strange, but what is customary and known to human life; ^C and furthermore, by attending to the providence of the Creator and Master, and knowing that He disposes all things for our benefit, and that He arranges the things of His own creature better than if we ourselves were to expend our own care and effort, we found a certain refreshment and relief; and from that dense cloud of despondency, we had our mind, as it were, restored; and most especially because, through the divine charity, we hope that she who has left us has departed from this vain life to arrive at that place where there is all joy, all serenity, all sweetness, all impassibility, and infinite rest.

These things, my child, since you are yourself wise and understanding by the grace of God, let them console you, lift up your spirit, and soften the pain of this separation. ^D We were not of those who could bear such a separation without mourning, lamentation, and rending of garments; for it could not be. We mourned, we lamented, we were torn. Let us stop the mourning here; let us put an end to our sorrows. Why? Because time brings relief. What then? Seeing that the order of nature is preserved in all these things, we suffer nothing, nor do we consider what has come to pass to be some innovation. But when we look only to ourselves, we mourn as if suffering something new, even though we are governed by common laws. And how is this worthy of your education, your intelligence, and the heavenly hopes to which you have committed yourself? But let us set aside mourning and tears,

^A let us compose ourselves, and let us yield to the judgments of God, who granted life as He Himself saw fit, and who granted us the company of this sweetest sister for as long as He judged it beneficial, and took her again according to His own inscrutable will and judgment. He, being the truly loving Father, directs and leads our affairs toward our benefit better than we ourselves could wish or pray for. We are led by desire alone, and we think that what contributes to this desire is useful; and if events agree with our desire, we suppose that our life is going well; but if not, we are distressed as if life were unbearable. ^B He, however, does not act thus; rather, even through things that seem grievous and bitter, He provides more benefit than one would expect to receive from things that are pleasant; in such a way that we may change into thanksgiving, into praise, into glorification, giving thanks for the time we enjoyed her company, and giving thanks now, confessing that by departing from this vanity and this painful and truly grief-filled life, our sister has arrived at a blessed life and rest, free from all pain and sorrow; and for this reason she is worthy not of being mourned, but rather of being envied and accounted blessed.

XLVIII. To Gregory, Metropolitan of Ephesus.

^B Beyond the sorrows pressing upon our soul, already laboring under many pains, my most sacred son, the evils announced through your letters have so affected me that I am almost beside myself, and, because of the ^C great distress, I have suffered something similar to those who, having been caught in a most violent storm within a yawning sea, cast away all hope of salvation; were it not that He who is everywhere present as an Helper provided for our return to Him, and confirmed our faith, He who until now has not ceased to stretch forth His strong hand, nor has ceased, on account of His ineffable goodness, to deliver His Church from countless and manifold calamities. Thus, as we regained our composure, better hopes began to be preserved. And may they be preserved, my Christ and ^D Savior, and may they not perish for us and for Thy holy Church on account of the infinite multitude of my sins! These things, my son, I am compelled to write to you. As for other matters—those, at least, that are within human power regarding aid—know that we are in extreme distress, and there is no power here or there to offer succor. It is therefore necessary that you return to us quickly; and this must be done without any delay. For this, if anything, will be most useful for the situation, namely, to be together, just as in mind, so also in body: and as for the rest, as the great and inscrutable wisdom of Christ our God shall see fit to dispose. Farewell, my most sacred son, protected by divine wings from every calamity, both visible and invisible.

XLIX. To the bishops who are outside of communion.

It is so, as the divine Apostle affirms with that heavenly mouth,

^A talking from heaven and not from human and mortal thoughts; for are not you—or rather, see for yourselves, you whom I know not how to call more sympathetically—unfortunate? I brought you forth for myself and for the Church of Christ and God; for how are you not unfortunate? You, who were born unto me, not so that you might defend in accordance with the law befitting children toward a parent, that you might fight on our behalf, and perhaps, while we are in danger, that you might assist and rescue your father from the danger, even if perhaps unjustly—since it is with God, and such sympathy has a recompense from Him who has set the boundaries of honor for parents and children—but our case is not such. For not only has nothing been achieved by us for the sake of the healing of the Lord and my God, but out of His unspeakable goodness, being graciously disposed toward us for the time being, He has allowed nothing of that sort to be seen by us. ^B

L. To Ignatius, Metropolitan of Cyzicus.

We rejoiced, even if not with perfect joy, upon receiving your letter, our sacred child. For the very fact that, after such a length of time since we were parted from each other, we have learned nothing certain about your life, and now at last by means of your letter have learned what we hoped for, has become a cause of rejoicing. We pray, however, to our beneficent God that we may rejoice more perfectly over you, through a complete release from the passion which has grieved us in common and which causes us such great torment. And may the good One be the fulfiller of our request, granting both to others to see and to receive the goodness of His that we have enjoyed.

LI. To the illustrious prince of the Abasgian region.

Your piety and the kindness of your character moved us to love for you, O man of God. And behold, we address you for the first time by letter, and we embrace you as our child as if you were present, and greet you with paternal kisses. For indeed, the proof of your piety is that divine zeal which you have shown and continue to show for the salvation and instruction in the truth of the race of the Alans. ^C For we have learned from many through whom your excellent deeds are known, that you have bestowed great care according to God both for the illumination of the prince of Alania and for all those who with him were deemed worthy of holy baptism. And of the kindness of your manners and of your beneficence, what other proof will be more evident? Or what other testimony should one seek, when your hospitality, your care, and your other solicitude in all things—as much as can be provided—is sufficient, which you have been seen to show with your whole will and whole soul toward the most God-beloved archbishop, our child? For this reason, we pray to Him who is able to render rewards, both in the present and in the future life, that according to the riches of His mercy He may supply His graces, now indeed ^D keeping you from all malice and from the adversity of human affairs, and in the future life counting you among those beloved by Him, and among those whom the assembly of His servants contains. And if, according to your ability, the most God-beloved archbishop should yet obtain any further consolation from your virtue, my child, you will entirely have that also added to your preceding good works, obtaining from our munificent God a hundredfold of recompense. If there is anything else that the most God-beloved archbishop shall reach of your consolation, our child, of your virtue, in any way also

^A LII. To Peter, Archbishop of Alania.

We received your letter, pleasant indeed because it is your letter, but otherwise most distressing, as it calls us forgetful and as having cast off our paternal affection for our children; and because it counts as the most burdensome thing the ministry of a child, which, although it promises great rest in God, threatens, at least in the present life, hard struggles and toils, unless our hope is strengthened by divine virtue. If, therefore, we are such towards our children, what shall we be towards others, and those who are not reckoned in the order of children? But that your memory, our sacred child, remains in my heart always, He who fashioned it knows well. For the rest, since you infer our love from your letters, know that we have not neglected this either. For we wrote, not once, but twice and thrice, ^B although, as it appears, the things written did not reach you; yet you allege neither any sojourn in a foreign land nor anything else as a cause for forgetfulness. And yet, our child, even if this were the case, you ought, in considering the flame of my humble soul and what holds us back on account of our sins, to have granted pardon for not receiving a letter, not to have turned this into a reproach. For we know that you also walk among vicissitudes and experience the furnace of tribulations; but you will not deny that our circumstances are more distressing than those that encompass you.

But let there be nothing more said concerning these things by which you and I are afflicted. ^C I write these things, which you heard when present and now hear when absent, under the dictation of the Holy Spirit: namely, that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed to us. And I am so far from grieving for the afflictions of the region you mention, that on the contrary I am held by a desire—would that the ear of God might now, if ever, attend to my humble prayers—that I might find participation in your tribulations. For what among the prosperous things of life could be found comparable to such tribulations? What happiness, among those things thought to be blessed, would be equal to those things which seem, my child, to grieve you? We have obtained great grace from the philanthropic ^D Christ our God who loved us; let us consider its magnitude, and let us not cease to render gratitude—if not full, at least according to our strength—to our benefactor. But let us not be as if we were grumbling, nor account the magnitude of the grace as of no value. Tell me, my child, if one of the powerful of the earth had placed you in his own order, what would you have become? And what disposition would you have assumed? But now, do you not heed the Savior who loves us, who emptied Himself from the height of His glory that He might save that which was lost, and might lead those who wandered in the shadow of impiety into the light of piety, and having brought you into that same ministry which He Himself undertook, you do not account it all joy, all gladness that can fall into the human mind, nor all

that is most blessed in life, but instead you ^A groan and lament, as one who has fallen into the most extreme misfortune? And how is this so, in a man who from childhood has been brought up by the grace of God, and has practiced virtue, and who considers nothing on earth worthy of being deemed blessed? For my part, I am so far from being discouraged by the things that discourage you, that whenever I call your situation to mind, I forget my own troubles through my joy for yours.

For if we also are pressed by the afflictions here, yet—alas for my own passions—we bear our patience without fruit, if I may say so, for all those who, as you know, consider themselves sufficient to understand salvation. But with you it is not so; rather, with strength from above, if not for all, then at least for those who adhere to the word of teaching and who exchange divine knowledge for godlessness, the fruit of your patience is incomparable. Do not, therefore, take it ill, nor be distressed, nor let the wing ^B of your mind flag because of the difficulties that beset you; but by true hope, which never fails those who serve God, be lifted up above groans and lamentations, with the eternal sweetness overcoming all things ephemeral. For what is human life, if a thousand years are reckoned as one day, which seem to embitter the soul? Besides these things, meditate for me on the passions of the blessed apostles; for I pass over the things of the Master, and yet what bitterness of passions does not the remembrance of the Master’s sufferings dissolve?

But, if you wish, let us leave those things, because, being Lord of not suffering, He willingly offered Himself to it. Rather, let us look to those who after Him accepted His sufferings, and those who from their time until today have entered into the course of the Gospel, and by comparing our own things with our fellow-soldiers, let us not take it hard that we suffer what befell them. But if our passions have less than the passions of our blessed Fathers, in this we are brought ^C to struggle because of the lack of their joy, brightness, and glory, when the Master sits to reward the labors and to proclaim the athletes. These things are sufficient for the consolation of our tribulations, and for you, being intelligent and having loved to undergo dangers for Christ; and certainly no argument will ever persuade me that you do not, to the end, love what you chose from the beginning.

Regarding what you wrote concerning the matters opposed to the good order of the Church in relation to marriages, and the other things that lead those who practice them toward the customs of the pagans, your wisdom does not fail to recognize that the transition from a pagan life to the strictness ^D of the Gospel is not so easily or so suddenly received. For this reason, it is necessary to present teaching and the exhortation that leads to good things without ceasing, with fatherly care and with gentleness; and as for those whom you find obedient, give thanks to Him who gives grace to your teaching; but those whom you see acting stubbornly, bear with them with a great soul,

^A and especially those who belong to the higher order of the nation, and not those who are subject, but those who have obtained the right to rule. For it is perhaps possible for you to act more sharply and with more authority toward those under your hand, and by no means to tolerate the offense. But toward those who have great power to oppose the salvation of the whole nation, it is necessary to be reflective, lest, by behaving too harshly toward them, we unknowingly provoke them completely and turn everything upside down.

LIII. To John, most holy Pope of ancient Rome.

^B What has befallen us, most blessed brother, on account of our sins (for so I must speak, and any other cause is secondary to our own guilt), I do not suppose is unknown to your holiness, nor the most recent scandals that have occurred in our Church—scandals which, I would almost say, are graver than the old ones, and, as far as human agency is concerned, offer almost no hope of resolution. Therefore, as if writing to one who knows, I have thought it better not to write of those things of which you are not ignorant even without my letters. For it is superfluous, not to say vain, to teach one who does not need to be taught the lesson. We write only this: that the turmoil of our Church, which had lasted for fifteen years, our Lord and God Jesus Christ has dissolved into peace—a peace which surpasses all understanding—and has, by an unexpected resolution (for who can scrutinize the judgments of God?), suddenly converted ^C the horrible tempest into deep tranquility, without any ensuing hardship, such as human circumstances often force to come upon someone contrary to expectation, nor with any trials of tribulations or distress—by which I mean the exile of one’s own people, the despoiling of property, or any other misery that is accustomed to dominate reason and force someone to yield to necessity against their conscience. But by the grace of God, as if by a single agreement (what do I say, by human agreement? but in truth by the nod of God), all have come together into one mind, and the holy Church of God holds those gathered in her sacred bosom.

But these things concern us. Since, however, we seek from the beginning your brotherly unity, which the scandals that have occurred in our Church have for a time interrupted for those of us who cross over to you, for this reason we make it known to you, most blessed brother, so that you too, rejoicing in our peace, may first—which is consistent even without our words—glorify Him who left for us the inheritance of peace and who, day by day, though the wicked one strives to steal it away, preserves it for those who love Him; and then, that the cause of the scandals having been resolved, the mutual exchange and dialogue between us may receive a restoration; and not only that, but also that the proclamation of your sacred name...

within our sacred diptychs may occur, with the cessation of the commotion and storm ^A that had long prevailed, and that the Church might return to a single mind; for those who had officiated at the fourth marriage confessed their own error, and we, with divine philanthropy, granted them pardon; and with one mind and one tongue, both they and we rejected the fourth marriage, and stood in the unity of one Church, and all became one flock, guided by one shepherd, my humility. These things, indeed, by the grace of God, were brought to pass here. But we seek, even as from the beginning, the mention of the name of the most holy Pope, our brother, in our sacred diptychs, which until now was not proclaimed because the existence of the fourth marriage had originated from the Roman Church. Now, therefore, since we have conceded all previous matters through the mercies and philanthropy of God, this one thing alone is necessary, for the Roman Church also to confess, even as ours has confessed here, that although the fourth marriage was permitted on account of imperial necessity, it was nevertheless permitted outside of ecclesiastical law and outside of the proper matrimonial order; so that through such a confession, from the present time forward, such a marriage may be secured as alien to the Christian race, and may find no place to exist to the reproach of the Churches of God, and rather, of the whole Christian race. For you know, our son, that when a matter takes its beginning from an illustrious and renowned person, unless it is prevented in every way, the humbler sort of men easily tend toward the imitation of it. Therefore, by the will of God, we also met Adeodatus, the most venerable cleric, who was returning from that place; and having learned from him the cause of his journey and that he was making his way toward Jerusalem, we detained him from his journey—especially as he reported to us all that he reported regarding your virtue—and we exhorted him to turn back and serve this need of ours. Him we also commend to you through this letter, and we exhort you not to hesitate to journey to Rome and to strive to bring to a conclusion those things which both our Christ-loving emperor and son, and our own humility, have written to the most beatific Pope and our brother.

Letter LIV

^B To an unknown person. We know, honored one, that as you are adorned with understanding, you revolve within yourself the things we write. For there is no sign of understanding so great as always to meditate upon those things which we perform from time to time and throughout our whole course. For such meditation makes us more secure, so that if anything was done contrary to what is right, it may be led back to correction; and if anything was good, it might make us more zealous toward the performance of it. You know what I say, my son, but my discourse will also unfold it. A certain provocation ^C arose against us in times past (not that I desire to blame anyone, but I even pray to the just Judge that he may not demand accounts of those who were the authors of it ^D and who brought it to an end, and that he may bring the Church together into one mind). For those who had ministered at the fourth marriage confessed their own fault, and we, with divine philanthropy, granted them pardon, and with one mind and one tongue, both they and we rejected the fourth marriage, and stood in the unity of one Church, and all became of one flock, and were shepherded under one shepherd, my humility. These things, indeed, by the grace of God, were so performed here. But we seek, just as from the beginning, the mention of the name of the most holy Pope, our brother, in our sacred diptychs, which until now was not proclaimed, because the existence of the fourth marriage had originated from the Roman Church. Now, therefore, since we have conceded all preceding matters through the mercies and philanthropy of God, this one thing alone needs to be done: that the Roman Church also confess, as the one here has confessed, that although the fourth marriage was permitted on account of imperial necessity, it was nevertheless permitted outside the ecclesiastical law and outside the proper matrimonial state; so that through such a confession, from the present time forward, such a marriage may be secured as alien to the Christian race, and may not take place to the reproach of the Churches of God, or rather, to the reproach of the Christian race. For you know, my son, that when a matter takes its beginning from an illustrious and conspicuous person, unless it is prevented in every way, the humbler sort of men easily tend toward the imitation of it. Therefore we also met Adeodatus, the most venerable cleric returning from those parts, by the will of God; and having learned from him the cause of his return and that he was making his journey toward Jerusalem, we detained him from his journey, especially since he reported to us what he reported concerning your virtue. And we exhorted him to turn away and serve this need of ours; him we also commend to you through this letter, and we exhort you not to hesitate to travel to Rome and to strive to bring to an end those things which both our Christ-loving emperor and son, and our own humility, have written to the most beatific Pope and our brother.

^A And those of you acting upon these things regarding the high priests and priests here, ^B no one henceforth will be able, as we said, to take as a pretext to stir up a storm in the Church hereafter for the sake of your union. Since, however, the nature of the worse sort always draws some to itself (and it is necessary to add this to the letter), and there are some who prefer turmoil and are annoyed by ecclesiastical peace, having severed themselves from us, we deem it right to instruct your legates that, having examined what is to the advantage of the Church, they should accomplish this concerning these men along with us and the Church. It is proper for men who care for the utility of the ecclesiastical constitution both to make vows and to strive that their vows may receive a good end with heavenly mercy. Let legates worthy of your holiness be sent, through whom, with God’s help, the affairs of the Churches may be directed well and fittingly; and I would say, if it were possible, James, the most God-beloved bishop; for since he has already come to us, he has seemed to us a legate worthy in all respects of the holy Church of the Romans; or else another person similar to him in virtue.

LIV. To an unknown person.

Even if the life of men is full of distresses, it nevertheless has for the consolation of those who love a frequent remembrance. But when this is absent, especially if the right of kinship demands it, then grief is added to those who grieve. Something of this kind has happened to us. ^C For as we are surrounded by many things that afflict the soul each day, none appeared, so far as human ways go, to bring consolation. And as for others I pass them over; but how could anyone be unaware that kinsmen feel the same, unless he were totally devoid of any sense of human affairs? I write these things not to reproach, but to renew, if you will, the allurements of kinship and the other relationship of friendship, which I know not how the present time has allowed us not to observe. For I do not think that you are ignorant of the straits by which we have been held, even if we have not written. It was entirely fitting for you, as you were present—even when we were prevented from writing—to go to Rome and make the most holy Pope, our brother, fully aware of the things that have befallen us (for none of the snares against us were hidden from you), and to make known to him the injury and the turmoil of the Church, such as it was, and to persuade him to send apocrisiaries to his injured brother, and to cooperate in restoring our Church fittingly to its sacred state and to correct the scandals that arose from the fourth marriage, by which correction his name should be rewritten in our sacred diptychs ^D and be proclaimed with our own [name] in the invitation.

But since these things have already passed, and Christ our God and great High Priest, out of His unsearchable wisdom, has [restored] that great [turmoil of]

and the storm which has been raging for fifteen years, ^A and the Church has come to one mind; for those who had ministered at these fourth marriages have gathered, confessed their error, and we, with divine charity, have granted them forgiveness. With one mind and one tongue, they and we have denounced the fourth marriage, and all have become established in the unity of one Church and one flock, governed by one shepherd, my humility. These things, by the grace of God, have been accomplished here. But we seek, just as we did from the beginning, the inclusion of the name of the most holy Pope, our brother, in our sacred diptychs, which until now was not proclaimed because the foundation for the fourth marriage originated from the Roman Church. Now, therefore, since we have conceded all the past through the mercies and charity of God, this one thing remains: that the Roman Church, just as it acknowledges here, should confess that although the fourth marriage was permitted out of imperial necessity, it was nevertheless permitted outside of ecclesiastical law and outside the proper constitution of matrimony; so that, through such a confession, from the present moment such a marriage may be secured as foreign to the Christian people, and so that it may not find a place to exist to the reproach of the Churches of God, or rather, of the Christian race. For you know, our son, that when a matter takes its beginning from an illustrious and conspicuous person, if it is not in every way prohibited, the humbler sort of men are easily led to imitate it. ^C For this reason, we encountered the most reverent cleric ^D Adeodatus, who had returned by the will of God, and having learned from him the cause of his return and that he was making his journey toward Jerusalem, we detained him from his path, especially since he reported to us all those things he reported concerning your virtue, and we exhorted him to turn back and serve this need of ours. Him we commend to you also by this letter, and we exhort you to go diligently to Rome and strive to reach an end, which our most Christian emperor and son, and our own humility, have written to the most blessed Pope and our brother.

LV. Anonymous

What we write to your reverence, we know you ponder within yourself in accordance with your intelligence. For there is nothing which is a greater sign of intelligence than to attend to all things which we do, one by one and at all times. For this attention of the mind makes us safer, and if we have done anything contrary to what is right, it leads us to correction; but if anything is good, it renders us more zealous for its performance. You know what I say, my son, and our words shall unfold it. There was a certain defamation against us in previous times (nor do I intend to accuse anyone; but I even pray to the just Judge that he may not himself demand an account from those who defamed us

^A but it happened, having taken its origin partly from there, and partly from the holy Church of the Romans, and we were expelled from our Church, having offended in nothing either against the Church of the Romans or against those here, although we are unceasingly sinning before God. And scandals arose from this cause, which, according to human hopes, exceeded all remedy. But God, who does wonderful things, has even now, suddenly and in a way no one expected, brought a solution to the scandals and turned into tranquility the storm that had been sorely agitating us for fifteen years now; and we render thanks and the due glory to our benefactor for the restoration of our Church.

We desire also our ancient union with you, and for this reason we write to you, at once announcing the happy state of our affairs, and drawing you to brotherly love and fellowship. This will easily happen if you are willing. For it must only be said that what happened to us concerning the fourth marriage was done out of compassion for the Emperor, and not as befitted the Church and the gravity of the Christian governance. For it is not worthy of the Church of the Romans to open the way to fourth marriages, and to grant permission to those wishing to lead a swinish life through polygamy. ^B As it has therefore been said, for this reason, let the fourth marriage indeed be rejected, but let what was done be referred to the compassion of the Emperor, and for the rest, let us be joined by the grace of God, as we were from the beginning, and there shall no longer be room for division between us. But also, according to the ancient custom, apocrisiaries shall be constantly passing from there to us and from here to you, and we shall enjoy the due love and fellowship. And beyond all these things, the proclamation of the sacred name of the most holy Pope shall be performed with our own humble invocation in the sacred diptychs; and simply, with one mind, and one purpose, and one spirit, which is pleasing to God, let us live. And these things, my son, we write, desiring in God your love, and nothing of those things by which we have been afflicted by the holy Church of the Romans.

LVI. To the Pope of elder Rome.

Often, if not by letter, yet by the men arriving here from your Rome—whether monks, or clerics, or even those of the lay order—we have made it known, most holy brother, that your legates should be present here, so that together with us and our whole Church, they might remove, with help from above, the painful scandals that have occurred in it (I know not how to say it, for it is better to use silence), which partly have their origin from there, and partly from those who previously occupied the sees of the Roman Church, and that they might provide for it its due stability and tranquility. ^C These things, however, have often been made known. Behold, it is now the ninth year

^A since, by the judgments which God knows, we returned to the Church from which we had been unjustly expelled, and nothing at all has been signified to us concerning this matter. But let us leave all that; we make it known to your Beatitude that our first High Priest and God has granted peace to our Church, whereas those who had formerly erred have confessed their own sin and obtained forgiveness, and have been joined to us as members—except for a few who, preferring sedition to peace, still contend in order to disturb the tranquility of the holy Church. Therefore, we write that legates of your Beatitude be sent to us, who may also themselves fully condemn with us the abomination of the fourth marriage and may provide stability for the common dogma of the Christian faith, so that in no way may such a most detestable marriage continue to exist among Christians; and if any dissension has occurred between this Church and the holy Church of the Romans on account of such a marriage, that this may be dissolved, and that a restoration to the original sentiment and the one agreement and concord may have come to pass.

LVII. To the Bishop of Synada

The very fact of having read the letters of your Holiness was a consolation to us in the things that afflict us, and we have become partakers of spiritual joy; and the report brought to us through our most religious son John, that by the grace of God you are in good health, has established us in greater gladness. We have therefore offered up the customary thanksgiving to God, and we pray—even if we are sinners—that you may be superior to every adversity, whatsoever it is that afflicts you and leads those who love you into affliction through the spreading of rumors. ^C As for what you wrote concerning the administration of the monastery, this has seemed good to us also, unless other reports arise which have not yet reached your ears and perhaps stir up the lovers of quarreling to further contentiousness. We have written before, and we write even now: Come to us, whom you may perhaps wish to see after a little while but will not see, since the end of life, as far as I can perceive, is now upon us.

LVIII. To the Bishop of Iconium

The tributes, my holy son, which come from the Churches of God, afflict you, and you grieve greatly. Know, however, that our own grief concerning such servitude of the Churches of God is much more bitter and sadder. But what are we to do? Since this distress has come upon us on account of our sins, we shall endure this affliction, even if we do not wish to. As for what the Cataphlorus ^D has manifested against your Holiness, these things, even if they are painful, will turn to your benefit, since you have borne the injury placidly and with a great spirit. Him, however, the eye of God, who is no respecter of persons, will, if not now, at least at some time look upon in anger. May that not happen, so you, as a high priest of God, and as one who has learned to bless those who persecute you and to pray for your tormentors,

in a manner worthy of your own virtue, may pray and entreat the One who weighs human affairs in an equal balance. Farewell.

LIX. To an unknown person.

LX. To the Oikonomos of the Great Church.

LXI. To an unknown person.

are conscious of no such thing. For we know, by the grace of God, ^A the perfection of your wisdom and your sincere affection for us, and the reverence you have for the churches of God, as a man who both knows and honors God, and knows that even to honor God is not without a certain fear; for we do not know if we honor Him as He deserves. Yet how much more is it to be feared and dreaded to offend Him! May the Lord keep you safe, superior to every evil, both visible and invisible.

LXII. To Peter the Solitary

The enemy of the peaceful state of human life, who has been so from the beginning, endeavored to commit his accustomed evils and to disturb your holy flock; and he impelled this man, who perhaps was not of such a mind—I mean Hilarion—by his own deceits, so that a scandal might arise among you ^B. Nevertheless, He who left peace as an inheritance to those who love Him, overcame and dissolved the work of either human fickleness or diabolical malice, and granted you to dwell in peace. And for this, we offer thanks to the holy God; but to you, who even without our words know, as those who are led by the Spirit of God, how one ought to conduct oneself toward a man, we write what we know to be both befitting to your sanctity and salutary and useful for him: namely, that you should not treat him as a stranger, nor as alien to your spiritual benevolence; but even if the dissimilarity of character—as often happens in human affairs—did not permit him to dwell and live together with you in body, ^C he should not therefore be excluded from spiritual union; but however it may be, transfer your paternal solicitude to him, and do not make him destitute of your prayers and exhortations, through which he is directed toward the blessed path that leads to life, nor let him be rendered an outcast from this great inheritance. May you be kept safe for us, remembering our humility in your holy prayers.

LXIII. To Epiphanius the Solitary

The bodily conversation of friends brings some pleasure, in that it seems to delight those who are united; but spiritual conversation, my son, even if the bodies are separated from one another, knows how to cause a fountain that is even more pleasant to flow in the hearts of those ^D who are joined through it. We have, therefore, complete delight, since by the grace of God we are united also in spirit, suffering no detriment from our bodily separation. For such is the disposition of the spirit, and such it knows how to provide as a delight to those who are sincerely united by spiritual conjunction, that even if the time of war takes away the opportunity of conversation, it can bring no detriment. But, God willing, we shall converse with one another also bodily, when this shall seem good to the divine will. And regarding those things which the letters signified, and which the chartophylax reported from the letter sent to him, the separation was necessarily extended. But the rest are thus spoken as

^A finished; and from now on it will turn out just as we have written to those in each region who are capable of administering what was drafted. For the rest, farewell, and be mindful of our humility in your holy prayers.

LXIV. To Tryphon the monk.

We rejoice at the fact that your holiness takes such great care of our affairs; for this too is a great consolation to those who are oppressed, just as the opposite vehemently saddens those who invoke such a disposition. Regarding which Scripture also says: "And I waited for one who would grieve together with me, but there was none; and for those to comfort me, but I found none" (Ps. LXVIII, 21). For in all things, sharing ^B makes the burden lighter for those on whom the necessity of bearing it falls. Therefore, as I said, we enjoy joy in this regard, and we give thanks to the holy God who moves you thus. However, the storm, which on account of our sins has pressed upon us from the beginning, nevertheless still rages, since the cloud of our faults has grown greatly, and has not yet received a resolution from the divine benevolence; may you obtain this through your holy prayers. Perhaps at last the good God will grant us clear skies, and will allow His Church to breathe from the affliction that holds it.

LXV. To John, bishop of Amisus.

The letter of your holiness caused in us a twofold sentiment, proceeding from opposite sources. For on the one hand, it prepared us to rejoice, making ^C manifest to us the news of your life; but on the other, it gave place for sorrow, because we learned that you had come off the lesser in the face of violent and ambitious men, while they carried off a wicked and truly destructive victory. But considering this, that by the grace of God your virtue has suffered no detriment to its good will and zeal; and certainly those who seemed to themselves to have carried off the victory have not snatched away from you the reward from God for the labors that you endured through the difficult path, we have found no small consolation so as not to grieve: which may it also be for your virtue, which, by the grace of God, is ^D free from all matter and looks only toward the gains reserved eternally. As for the insulting and mocking ones, whoever they may be, let us dismiss them to nothingness with their same insults and mockeries, caring in no way whether they rain down insults or devise anything else to show against us. For the rest, may the holy God grant that you be well for us, mindful of our humility.

LXVI. To an anonymous person.

My beloved son; an event has occurred, as some say, by no means worthy of this city, in which all order, Christian discipline, and piety reign, and every pinnacle of wisdom and sincerity of sacred constitution, nor does it render the Church immune from grief or reproach. For such things are said to have been done as...

by those who dwell among the Gentiles and the Greeks. For the treaties made through burnt offerings and the slaughter of animals are nothing other than a Gentile and Hellenic sacrifice. For do not look only at the slaughter, simply and as it happened, but consider that they have certain deeper mystical reasons according to their own impiety. For why is it that they do not simply slaughter whatever animals they chance upon, but single out oxen, dogs, and sheep? Just as, therefore, the awesome sacrament of the Christians selects bread and wine, and brings these forth to sanctify those who perform the rite, so also ^A those animals are selected according to the nature of their impiety for a sacrifice, making those who perform the rites belong to the demons who are worshipped by them. For let not this statement from them deceive us, as if it were only thus that blood is shed; for these are mere words. But we ought to know this, that their offerings have their reference toward some mystical cause according to them. For what prevents them from merely splitting a piece of wood and saying, "Thus let it be split"? What prevents them from sacrificing a sparrow and saying, "Thus let my blood be shed"? But they light pyres and make the same selection of dogs and oxen and sheep. ^B It ought not, therefore, to have been done; for it is forbidden by the sacred canons and by the Christian constitution. As I said, therefore, it ought not to have been done. But since it was done, the next step is to follow up with the remedy, and for those who were present at this affair to be subjected to penances, so that neither may a scandal arise for the Church, nor may disturbance and a storm additionally take hold of her, nor may reproach be imprinted upon us sinners and upon your virtue, my beloved son, and upon the other rulers of the state, both in the present generation ^C and in the one to come. For our Christ-loving emperor, on account of the imperfection of his age, will be free from blame both before God and before men; but we—and know that when I say "we," I mean the Church, and yourself, and the others who preside over the administration—will be in reproach and contempt both before God and before men. Take care, therefore, my son, with the prudence given to you by God, to manage the matter in such a way that the fault-finders and calumniators, who often turn even good deeds into an occasion for slandering the Church of God and the glorious state, may not find an occasion for reproach, ^D both now and hereafter; but let them know that what happened occurred through necessity, for which the cause is those who love wars and the slaughter of men—I mean, of course, the God-hated Bulgarians—and that the remedy followed through your pious prudence. For things that happen through necessity are worthy of forgiveness both before God and before men who understand human affairs. For often on account of the urgency of famine, someone has tasted forbidden things; then, having used the due remedy, he incurs no reproach because it was on account of necessity that he tasted something unclean. Thus, therefore, even this, if it receives a remedy, is irreprehensible on account of necessity and free from crime. But if it remains uncured, neither the present generation nor the future will hold us blameless and free from crime.

LVII. To an Unknown.

LVIII. To an Unknown.

archbishop in his see, with the aid of God in the affairs of Chazaria, ^A when it shall have been brought to completion with God as fellow-worker. And may Christ our God both manifest you honorable there, and grant you a return hither with safety.

LXIX. To David Camuliano, Protospatharios.

What you wrote, beloved son, and concerning those who—I know not whether to call it madness or some evil demon driving them to inhuman acts—have come to the imperial ears; besides the fact that, even before our own admonition, the knowledge of their deeds did not escape them through your report. They have therefore commanded your most keen wisdom, as I suppose, in conjunction with the most God-beloved archbishop of Ephesus, to make an investigation of these men. But enough of these matters. ^B We, having previously observed your most perfect prudence, and now possessing an increased knowledge of you through your actions, pray, even though we are sinners, that you may be guided through life by the right hand of God in all paths in which you walk, and that, being moved by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit from above, you may both think and do those things which will render you superior to all blame in the present life, and in the future obtain for you eternal glory.

LXX. To David Camuliano, Protospatharios.

When we cast our eyes upon the letters of a beloved son, which he ought to offer to God, ^C and by this casting of the eyes we thought we had the son as if before our eyes, they were presented. But as for what your letter mentions regarding the loquacious, what need is there that I should contend with my own words to bring to the knowledge of one such as you, who by the grace of God are understanding, the character of such men? For you know that nothing is so sweet to men as to tear apart the deeds and words of their neighbor, of whatever sort they may be. And what is to be wondered at, if it happens to us also to be reviled according to this human passion? Do you, therefore, pay no heed to the revilers, my son; but do you hold fast to your good conscience, which you strive to present blameless to God, ^D who is no respecter of persons; since, towards men, no one is so fortified by an upright conscience that the eye of blame does not in some way cast its bitter glance upon him. We know, moreover, that you have previously endured and are now enduring labors which have brought you no profit from men; and God Himself is witness, who searches the hearts. We are grieved in soul, but what can one say concerning the confounded things of this life, unless it be that one must strive for better things? That we hope for, that your virtue will obtain the glory due to it. But enough of these matters. As for what you have sent to us concerning the men who have been subjected to examination for the evil things they have committed, these have come to the imperial inspection, and in accordance with this inspection, a mandate has been given to your reverence as to what manner it is necessary to deal also now with these insane men. As for the rest, it is for your highest wisdom, as concerns that which is still lacking in rightful retribution, to put an end to these men who, through a defect of mind—not to say madness—have rendered themselves guilty of this kind of punishment. For the rest, may you be preserved...

the Lord keep you strong and ^A above all visible and invisible harm and malice.

LXXI. To Alexander of Nicaea

Considering it superfluous, my child, to instruct you by letter regarding matters which you will learn from James when he is present, we have omitted detailing the entire administration of the things about which you wrote. This, however, we do make known to you: that Peter, unless he again prefers falsehood to the truth, has confessed that he revealed this third person whom we are seeking. If he confirms his confession, do nothing more for him; but if he wishes to retract it, he must necessarily be expelled, and he shall certainly be expelled. James has been brought into the presence of the emperor and, as he has explained to us, he saw the emperor greatly inclined toward our adversaries. What then must be done, my child, since matters stand thus? What but to live philosophically and to yield to the times, insofar as this does not ^B completely show us to be traitors of the Churches of God? Furthermore, along with the other things that James will announce to you, he will also add this announcement. Be strong for us and mindful of our humility in your holy prayers.

LXXII. To an Unknown Person

My beloved child, beyond your other virtues, manifest also your good will in consoling the clergy of God, who incessantly celebrate the praises of the Lord and pour out prayers for the safety and life of the emperor, and for your own, and for that of all your subjects. Do not let the stipends, which they have received from the foundation of the Church even until now, be taken away in these days of the emperor, the lord Constantine, nor leave such an account for posterity. For if those who administered public affairs badly before you cut these off, you must correct their sin, for the glory of the emperor and the good memory of your name, so that through your godliness ^C the Church may not undergo such a calamity, and the imposture which those men committed may not be confirmed, but on the contrary, the Church may be held in honor in your days. That sum of pounds, my child, if not donated, will not increase the treasury, nor if donated will it cause anything new to befall the treasury. But consider what the reward is before God, and likewise what the condemnation is. For if a reward remains before God for him who is merciful toward one person, and again, judgment and vengeance for him who acts unjustly toward one person, how much more will the assistance of such a people, and so many miserable women and impoverished, needy folk, acquire for you an infinite reward from God? Well done, my beloved child; honor the Church, so that after your earthly honor you may be able to enjoy the eternal one, ^D which I certainly know you desire. Would that you might always think and do those things which conduce to the glory of the most holy God, and to your own honor and salvation! You

may the holy God deliver from every troublesome occurrence, both visible and invisible.

LXXIII. To an anonymous person.

LXXIV. To an anonymous person.

LXXV. To an anonymous person.

tomb and our departure from this life. All those humans who receive power on earth from God have this as their primary task, when they remain thankful for God’s benefits, to strive to glorify God. And God is glorified through the virtuous conduct of both them and their subjects; for in nothing else are the things of earth so glorified or honored by God—neither by the building of temples nor by the offering of sacrifices—as by good action and purity of life.

Therefore, you too, our child, having received the ability from God, and being a prudent man who knows how to be grateful to Him who has benefited you, ought to think upon and pursue those things through which people will lead a more honorable life and live in greater security, ^B neither grieving God nor treating humanity with contempt. Why do I write these things? Because yesterday you said to us that those who oppose the Church say that we demand security for the Church by means of a written request because we fear that an imperial decree might again do such things or even worse, and that we might again be oppressed by these same things. And from this, my child, arises an apology for them that carries its own manifest condemnation: for how should priests differ from the laity, if not by firmly adhering to the sacred laws?

Further, my child, in the military order in which you were nourished and educated from the lowest rank up to the highest, do not many desert their own place and run from the battle line out of cowardice? And when this happens every single day, do not the laws dictate that those set in authority must show urgency in discouraging it, if you indeed wish to restore those deserters ^C who fled from the battle line back into the military order? Do you not admonish and urge them not to dare to do this again, nor to abandon the place from which they fled, before you receive them back? Thus you demand steadfastness for human military service; will you then overlook it for the spiritual and holy one?

A man of God, whoever he may be, who has been entrusted by God with the authority to rule, ought both to think upon and to do that which is pleasing to God and pertains to the salvation of those under him. As for the subjects, if they obey, they find their own salvation. But if they do not obey, they themselves are condemned, while the ruler remains uncondemned, because he took the precautions that he was bound to take. Why also are legislators honored and blessed? Because they established laws, having provided for the salvation of men. But those who transgress the laws are miserable. Nor, for that reason, are the lawgivers or their work to be blamed, because they established laws which most men—as you know well, my child—trample underfoot and neglect. ^D

As for those who say that our affairs are in a bad state because those who have entered into a fourth marriage are not united to the Church, I affirm that they know not what they say, nor upon what arguments they rely; for in every matter, consideration comes first, and then the expectation of God’s help, which, however, the Greeks themselves—more religious than they—disapprove.

^A He who sows negligently, does not reap a great harvest; he who lays a foundation negligently, cannot build a secure house; nor indeed can anyone sail the seas and be saved while being slothful and sleeping, unless he sees to the rigging of the ship. Nevertheless, our son, consider also this, which we have said with our own voice: after Photius, our patriarch, along with all whom he had ordained, was cast out by a sharp and persistent vote, the grandfather of our emperor, Constantine, destroyed Tephrica, conquered Bari, made Longobardia subject, and snatched Tarentum and other fortresses from the power of the Saracens. But when Ignatius and Photius were dead, and those whom he had ordained were reunited, Syracuse and all of Sicily were destroyed. Why? Because of the negligence of the then-drungary, Hadrian. Again, you know that in the days of Emperor Leo, the Pope and those who stood with him met and were joined to the Church, and while deep peace prevailed, Thessalonica and Tauromenium were lost. Why? Because they preferred to be idle there. For when the Thessalonians were in need of help, they delayed sending ships from day to day, and ruined affairs. Think and meditate on this, my son, and with God’s help, you will diligently apply yourself to public affairs and, taught by experience, you will say for what cause citizens are happy or unhappy. ^B I write these things not rejecting, nor hating the peace and unity of the Church. May I never be so insane, nor may God allow me to be so demented; but I seek that unity which honors God, that state which favors affairs both now and hereafter; perish the thought that the coming generation should condemn us as senseless, as irrational, as despisers of divine canons, and for this reason condemn us and you to anathema; which is wont to happen when those who were powerful during their life depart, and others are born, excelling in wisdom, piety, and virtue at that time.

LXXVI. To an unknown recipient.

^C The sincere love which your reverence holds toward our humility has long been known and discussed; it needs no demonstration now, nor an abundance of words, since works speak for themselves. Wherefore we also receive no small consolation in our trials from your spiritual friendship toward us. And, by the grace of God, we have lost nothing of this pleasure that overflows to us from your love, although we cannot be together and see one another with the eyes of the body. But the eyes of the mind, with ^D no one hindering, both see and spiritually unite us to one another. Thus, let your holiness by no means think that you are deprived of the union in the Spirit through bodily separation; for wherever there is a union of sincere love, when friends are separated corporally from one another, there they are truly united; so that you and we, by that divine union, are neither today nor yesterday,

but for a long time past united, are in no wise separated by distance of place. ^A But this is how that stands. Regarding your brother who has fallen through ignorance, we say that the fact that it was done out of ignorance does not close the door of forgiveness against him; especially since the letter reported that his heart is contrite and he is torn by bitter pains. Therefore, keeping the man before your own eyes, and considering his repentance, and beholding the pain of his soul, as far as you may judge, cure the fault with moderate discipline, as you are accustomed to do in other cases, being set over this by divine grace, both to correct the faults of those subject to you, and to mete out forgiveness to each according to the measure of his repentance.

LXXVII. To an uncertain person.

^B Through other letters, and through those which your fraternity sent, O most blessed one, I have learned of the evils which, by the snares of the wicked devil, have happened to the Church of our time, and it seems to me little necessary, nay rather superfluous, to write to you again concerning these things. However, we make this known to you, that before the present letter, we wrote to your beatitude through the clerics Adeodatus and Peter—who has Rome as his fatherland, but has been ours since we recovered the throne, as the order of affairs in our Church required—a necessary discourse so that you might know that the previous ^C scandals have been entirely abolished; for we wrote also to the protospatharios that the same bond and the same unity exist between the Roman and Constantinopolitan Churches as from the beginning. But the commands of the emperors crowned by God and of our children were sent to him, so that he might go to your holiness and deliver the gifts, if any were sent, rendering an account, and that from there the messengers of your holiness might return and hasten to us, so that by the common counsel of your legates and our humility, that which still remains of agitation, caused by the preceding scandals, in the Constantinopolitan Church might be settled.

If, therefore, they arrive at your presence, those things which were written by me will be fulfilled through their return with your legates. ^D But if not, as happens in human affairs, they are unable to be present with you, the bearer of this present letter, having been instructed by our humility, will certainly report everything to you; and when, God willing, he shall return to us, with the charity of your holiness mediating, which Christ and our God has left to us, the legates will hasten with him, so that nothing of those things which need correction may remain uncorrected and cause sadness to the Church. For if not entirely, yet by the grace of Him who transformed the eternal dissension of men into unity, our Church has already received unity; for it is necessary that if anything of the wicked demon still remains, it should be abolished, and again in the Church of God

concord should shine forth. I do not think there is any need for more words. For this reason, we do not extend this letter. For we know undoubtedly that your wisdom, perfected by the grace of God, even without our letters, examines and investigates everything, and understands no less than we do the things that have befallen us and the Church of God from the time when, although useless and unworthy, we were established in the archepiscopal order, and up to the present day to which, I know not by what judgments of God, our painful life has extended. May our Lord keep you in good health, most blessed brother. ^A

LXXVIII. To the Monks.

From your letter and from the monk who brought it to us, we have learned the things that concern you, faithful servants of God, and we have rendered due thanks to Him who chose you out of the vanity of life and gave you the strength to choose the life of the angels, through which you will be deemed worthy of His presence and glory, because the present circumstances and the things that entice the deceived will disappear, and the blessed manner of life of the saints will be made manifest. ^B Truly you are blessed, and whoever else has attained such a frame of mind as yours, and has left this unstable revolution of life, and sought only, as far as is possible for a human, the departure from the flesh towards God, and the union with Him, even if this thick cloud of the body does not allow one to be purely united with the Desired One. But as for your part, this is how it is; as for us, in place of every gift, we ask for your holy prayers, which it is fitting for you to offer and necessary for us to receive. For what gift can be more delightful or useful than this? Do not cease, therefore, to offer these. Fare well in the Lord for us, prospering in virtue, and always adding to it, until, the carnal bonds being dissolved, you ascend to the heavenly paradise. ^C

LXXIX. To Uncertain Persons.

Perhaps even before our letter, rumor has brought to you, our spiritual children, what has been done regarding the Church through the divine favor; yet this letter also proclaims the good news that, as the divine goodness has overlooked our sins, the Church has escaped that great malice, and for the time being its abusers have been removed by violent force from their tyrannical assault, and we, by divine grace, have recovered our own order, which we held—though we were unworthy—and from which a violent hand had expelled us; and so our affairs have been accomplished by the favor of God. ^D As for you, beloved and partakers in the labors and therefore also in the rest of the divine apostles, you who have run the blessed race, whose feet are beautiful as of those who bring glad tidings of peace, pursue your own work even more zealously, driving the darkness of impiety from the souls whom they have occupied and kindling for them the light of salvation, so that, strengthened by faith through you,

^A God may be glorified in them, and you may also be glorified in the present age and in the future with divine and immortal glory.

I know that many things constrain you and straiten your holy life. For I, as is just, considering the solitude of the place, and the character of the men with whom you live, and the diversity of their dispositions, am instructed by your apocrisiarius. Nevertheless, the things of the present time are not worthy of the future glory which shall be revealed in us; looking to which, and putting labor and straits in the second place, complete your blessed work, and with all strength provide stability for those recently converted. And leaving for them those who are to direct them in the unerring way by doctrine in your stead, and to take care of their salvation, when the time calls, together with the inspiration from above, hasten to our humility, augmenting with your own words our grace which we possess from those who are led to Christ our God through baptism, and partaking in the joy of the Church, which our Savior and God, having been entreated by Himself, hath provided for those who hope in Him. ^B

LXXX. To an Uncertain Person.

We have received your letter, my son; and concerning the devastation of the fortresses, both before you left those parts and from you, my son, and from others, we have heard; and I know that you spoke the truth then and speak it now. Therefore, forbearing to write of those things, write to us that, with God helping you, you have effected the restoration of the devastated things, and that all things which the former commanders lost through their own negligence, these your prudence has recovered and your care has established. For in this way your virtue will appear greater, and you will be pleasing to our great emperor and will enjoy a reward worthy of him. Concerning the impious and atheistic enemies, knowing this, that strength is not in a multitude of people, but in justice and concord, even if you have few soldiers, teach them this, fight bravely with them, and relying on Christ our Savior, we hope that you, in good success, will hold sway over those who glory in a multitude of people. ^C

LXXXI. To an Uncertain Person.

Many things are said among men, and most of them (alas for the human propensity toward the worse!) are an inheritance of falsehood; yet there are some things that truth also knows. It is said concerning you, O good and honorable man, that you harbor hatred—I blush to say it—against us. For what are we, even if the throne desired by many has been committed to us, for those reasons which He knows, who willed that it be entrusted to me? But it is not us that you pursue with hatred, but the immaculate bride of the Son of God, adorned with pure blood. And therefore, whatsoever things you turn against yourself you turn, but you rouse others also to the struggle, and indeed you think, against us, but in reality against ^D

against us, but in truth for their own salvation. For we too, even without your equipment, will entirely, either immediately or after a short time, lie dead in the grave, which is what you desire. But you, after we have departed, will experience the gain of your rebellion. We affirm this with God as witness, and do not doubt it: for He is a truthful witness. We do not appeal to man or to God against you, since I know that divine justice, which shows no partiality, the more we remain silent, the more it will fix its gaze upon your deliberation. ^B

LXXXII. To the most illustrious, beloved, spiritual son, Landulpho, proconsul, Nicholas, by the mercy of God, Archbishop of Constantinople.

The event regarding the patrician and duke Ursoleon, even before your letters, my son, fame made known to us, and we received a grief that touched our very soul, partly because of the death of him and of those who perished in the same way, but more so because, regarding you, my son, evil rumors about our God-crowned emperors reached us, attributing the entire cause of their death to you, and accusing you in the name of this royal majesty, whose benefits you have enjoyed, and which has surrounded you with such honor and glory. We were therefore sorrowful on this account, my son, with an inconsolable sorrow, thinking that you had violated the oaths which you had offered to our August emperor Leo. But now, when through your letters and others sent from the camp we learned some other things, and not such shameful things as rumor had announced, we received some small consolation for the things that were afflicting us: although not even thus do you appear exempt from censure or condemnation. ^C For even if all the things that were written by you against the deceased patrician and duke are true, it was not for you to inflict punishment upon him. But by whom? By the common rule and royal power, by which you were also glorified, and by which he was appointed to the governance of the place. It was fitting, after exhortations, after counsels, after the other gestures of goodwill bestowed by you upon him, since he was unpersuadable and relentless, and was carried away to mere malice, to refer the matter to the God-crowned power of our emperors, and to demand from them that they remedy the evils, but not for you yourselves to become the slayers of brothers and fellow-servants, and, as you say, the avengers of things that happened evilly. This was, my son, what befitted your nobility, your wisdom, your right faith and love, your [devotion] toward the imperial power, and the oaths which you swore toward ^D the imperial power that glorified you. But now, not only this, but, as they say, you have also seized fortresses that in no way belonged to your authority, and have brought under your control those which, until the present, did not recognize your control.

These things, my son, if you have truly done them, what can be found

^A to be a defense, or what argument will be available to us to establish that you still maintain the owed goodwill and subjection toward the great and lofty imperial power? Nevertheless, we, while being in doubt concerning what has previously occurred, and rather giving credence to the letters recently received, have implored our God-crowned emperors with tears not to cast aside their disposition toward you, nor to think that you cherish a different faith and goodwill toward their imperial power than before, but that, even as they stood toward you before these evils occurred, they still hold the same toward you, overlooking the things committed through rashness—if indeed even these have occurred, as if Ursoleon had given the occasion, but you—in a human manner—were caught up in them and did things which ought not to have been done.

^B Therefore, we have also spoken to their imperial power regarding your becoming praetor of Longobardia, and their benevolence has indeed overlooked the mistakes that were made, and it did not completely refuse your request for the praetorian post which you were seeking; but, as is fitting, it awaits from you signs of your sincere and life-long subjection and obedience toward it. This satisfaction was revealed to you through an honorable command, and we, by these present letters, make it known to you. Furthermore, they command before all else that you abandon the fortresses which, without any right, you did not cease to hold after your contumacy; second, that you fulfill the other part of the decree regarding the instructions given to you concerning your wife and your retreat in the Peloponnese. ^C But if you are unable to do this, at least send one of your sons, that he may dwell with your son who is already here enjoying imperial honor and office. If you do these things, as we have said, they will overlook the crimes that have occurred as if they had never happened, and, granting the effect to your prayers, they will declare you praetor of the whole of Longobardia. These things have been done by us on your behalf before our great and lofty emperors, and you learn through this letter what the benevolence and munificence they have toward you are. It is yours, therefore, either to draw their wrath upon yourself, or to enjoy—as I hope and desire—their benevolence and goodness.

LXXXIII. To the Bishop of Otranto.

^D As for the thanks you give regarding the divine and human peace restored in the Church, you do well to give thanks. For when, in such a salutary matter, there is no one, even if he does not preside over all the people, who does not give thanks to God for the concord of the sacred congregation, how is it not commanded that we, if possible, should give thanks not only with the tongue but with all our members—we whom, though unworthy, our Christ and God has placed in the circle of the sacred ministry? But it was fitting that, along with your own thanksgiving, you should have come down to us here and, together with your brothers and fellow-bishops, should have given thanks to the Author and Arbiter of peace, and to the first and great High Priest, and to God. But do not neglect to do this now, nor delay any longer in coming to us. Thus much regarding this matter. That

which you wrote concerning the patrician Ursoleon, this is commonly reported, and our great and high emperors receive it from others as well, and they have offered responses that seemed to them salutary and beneficial; yet nothing prevents you from knowing these things. They have promised an amnesty for what has been committed, if those who have dared to do these wicked things remain for the future well-disposed and obedient. Regarding those who were sent to Rome, we have accepted your zeal toward them, yet their slow and remiss progress, which ought to have been swift, we do not leave without censure. Nevertheless, even from that quarter, if you can assist them, wherever there is a common benefit, do so diligently. The rest... (Add what is in the concluding clause of the following letter.)

LXXXIV. To the most glorious, beloved spiritual son Gedon, protospatharios of the emperor, Nicholas, by the mercy of God, Archbishop of Constantinople.

We have received your letter, my son, but from other things that have been sent to us from that region we have also learned of the calamitous events and whatever the evil demon and his associates have wrought. But our great and high emperors, granting pardon to the authors of so many evils, have shown through their command what it was their will to show. It behooves you, therefore, my son, as a faithful minister of the imperial power, both to speak and to reveal those things which pertain to the tranquility of affairs; you shall reveal, therefore, whatsoever you can, whatever concerns obedience toward the imperial power and dominion. These things, indeed, regarding what has happened among you. As for ecclesiastical matters, I have nothing to write beyond what has been written to you. If, therefore, it is in your power to go down to Rome and to arrange your affairs according to the letter, accomplish this diligently, knowing that you will receive from God and from the imperial power the reward for your labor and toils, and if there is any, it shall also be augmented by our humility. For the rest, may God keep you in His favor if you live and act according to His will.

LXXXV. To the bishops, and priests, and magistrates, and the rest of the multitude of the people of Lombardy, Nicholas, by the mercy of God, Archbishop.

What has been written by you, my most beloved children, we have read diligently, and we have revolved it in our mind even more diligently; for whatever has happened regarding that man, our great and high emperors, referring it to this tribunal, in which nothing is hidden, not only of things done but even of things that have come into thought, have dismissed all these things from the tribunal of their own examination and judgment, so that the guilty have nothing to fear on this account from the royal power. Let them observe this one thing with all care and solicitude, that the dominion which they have received from God, and the debt of love and of our own humility’s recompense, being well-pleasing to Him and according to His will, God may...

^A show them to be such; or rather, let them strive by good works to repel the accusation regarding the homicide that has occurred, demonstrating that even if they did what they ought not have done, they did it because they hated wickedness and pursued the persecution of evil. This will be manifest if they lend a docile ear to the commands of our exalted and great emperors and are prepared to correct themselves. Regarding the election of the proconsul Landulf as commander of the army, our great and exalted emperors have deliberated according to the prudence given to them from above by God, and have declared their own judgment to the proconsul; and if he is willing to obey the command sent to him, the common desire of you and of him shall reach its fulfillment. What more need be written? Whoever is judged worthy of a gift, whether divine or human, proves himself worthy of it, and thus receives it from the giver, whom the giver already judged worthy when he accepted the gift. May Christ our God grant that both rulers and subjects may ponder and do those things which look toward salvation, toward utility, toward our peace, and toward a virtuous way of life.

LXXXVI. To the Emperor, on behalf of the steward of the Church.

^B Lord and son glorified by God, He who raised you to the pinnacle of empire has also raised your mind and your exalted thoughts, so that by His goodness it has been given to you to possess whatever befits your kingly power. And therefore, as a father, I exhort you, my son and lord, that you may be disposed toward your subjects in accordance with the greatness of your kingly goodness, and not according to the ^C frequent foolishness of those who are insane, of those who say to your kingly power things that ought not to be said, and who chatter because of their own lack of sense. This admonition is sufficient, and we have no need of more words. We have summoned the steward, and we have warned him of everything he needed to hear; and I believe he will no longer grieve your honorable soul as he once grieved it by saying improper things and, as it seemed, by pursuing your most honorable majesty with insults. We have dismissed him; do you show him a benevolent countenance out of your own goodness, saying with your living voice those things which God will inspire in your holy mind, and once again committing to him the little keys of the steward. For which things, may God the Holy One, hearing our humble prayers, Himself ever lend a benevolent ear to you who pray, and fulfill whatever He shall will.

LXXXVII. To an uncertain recipient.

Our holy son, I do not believe your sound intelligence is unaware of what my nature is, or what the opinion of your humble father is regarding those stumbling blocks that so frequently occur in a human manner, nor that I treasure up anything of the sort in my soul, not only toward my son and ^D my own bowels—

^A and members, as you yourself are, and as a participant in my sufferings by the grace of God from the beginning, but neither toward any other person. Let no suspicion, therefore, my beloved son, enter your mind—as if anything unpleasant from the aforementioned events is stored up in my soul, nor any aversion or opposition. God forbid, my son; never may any such adversarial thought, once stirred up, take such hold that such a notion should be planted in your soul. Rather, you shall see our disposition, judgment, and poured-out affection toward you as even greater than before, and this all the more since I now enter into the midst of those who, perhaps because of my sins, ought not to converse with us with simplicity or with an undistorted mind. And I say again: if any thought disturbs you because of this small disagreement that has occurred, cast it from you with your whole soul, receiving firm assurance that not even a trace of the things that happened between us will remain ^B in my soul, in God we say.

LXXXVIII. To an unknown person

We know your good disposition, my son, which does not stand in need of our exhortation. For those of their own accord possess compassion, and do not require external prompting for this. Therefore, those who bring our letter, and who have not until now delivered such a letter, entreat that they be no further burdened, these who from the beginning and long since have been relieved by their contributions in the patriarchal administration. For we reasoned that even without our letter you would release them from this public burden. For it is not possible (as your own wisdom well understands) both to contribute the things defined from the beginning for the patriarchal see ^C and, in addition, to be burdened with public services. For this reason we write to you, my son, that if it is possible, you may cease from molesting poor men who, through their own poverty, bring a small contribution of use to the Church of God, and that you may not impose upon them a burden beyond their power, which will not allow them to perform public duties, and will deprive the Church of God of small offerings.

LXXXIX. To Gregory, Bishop of Ephesus

Since the great and first Prince of priests, our Lord and God Jesus Christ, has provided for the affairs of His holy Church to be managed in the way that seemed good to His own goodness (for who would dare to conceive ^D that this great work has not been done with His good pleasure?), but since the affairs of His holy assembly have been managed, we decree that the ancient ministers of the holy altar must be placed before those who now at the present time have been appointed to [liturgical] service by your high priesthood; then after them, those who received the laying on of hands from you; and the last are to be those who, at the time of the scandals—which, by whose divine judgments I do not know, were allowed to enter the Church under Constantine and John—were ordained. This, then, is our decree regarding that part. But we ordain another matter (and this must remain entirely unalterable), that he who is appointed into the position of protopresbyter and archdeacon

and indeed also that of the so-called second [in rank], should preserve their order and station, and by no means should you presume to reduce them to a lower rank. These things we command you, even though we are a sinner, yet you must obey your father and chief priest. ^A

XC. To those in uncertainty.

My brothers, and I will add, children—unless it displeases you to be called the children of one who is a sinner, yet nevertheless your father, a thing which you yourselves would not deny, even if... we have been deemed worthy before all men; but indeed, children and brothers... [there is a] schism in the Church caused by the evil demon; yet by the providence of Him who always and from the beginning brings together into unity things that have been separated, especially through Himself when He emptied Himself for the sake of the unity of all and endured what He endured. Then, moreover, through those who have taken up His care for humanity, namely the apostles and their successors, He removed, we believe—even if we are sinners—the division and established a conjunction among the priests of God that is fitting to the divine will. And if anyone does not notice this schism, it is not my place to convince him, as the facts suffice for proof, even if we remain silent. As for the accusations directed against my humility, whether by you or by others, I do not deprecate the attempt of the accusers to proceed as far as possible. Although by divine grace we do not fear that crisis, yet, children and brothers, if I am a burden to you and unpleasant, I am prepared to relieve those who are burdened by such a load, and to arrange what concerns me according to your good pleasure, yielding the position of being your head to one who can be pleasing to you, provided only that you return to the integrity of the body of the Church. ^{B C}

XCI. To my beloved spiritual son, the most illustrious Coropos.

We know, our son, even before your letters, owing to your perfect understanding, that the difficulty of the situation prevented your Excellency from being sent to us. However, let this not escape you, that even if no admonition had been made by you, we would not neglect to make mention of your happiness and salvation in our humble prayers. It belongs to your intelligence to render our humble prayers effective and to give them the power of approaching the omnipotent God. For the fervent prayers of the just are strong. But if the prayer of the just needs the help of those for whom it is offered, how much more so the prayer of sinners, such as we are! Altogether, however, my son, help will come to our humble prayers from you, who live worthily before God—as everyone who is a participant of human nature ought to do, and especially those who have received authority from God, and, being like God, are connatural and fellow-servants to those subject to them. What, therefore, do I say? Certainly that you, in the manner of a father, and not ruling rigidly, are providing for your subjects as for your own children, cultivating justice, and [providing] salutary sub- ^D

- sistence for those lying under your care, and simply—not to say more—that by ruling your subjects in such a way, as one who has received the rule from God and who images the Lord of all rule and dominion, you will make our prayer for you effective; and thus, as we pray, you will pass your life on earth in glory, and you will not miss the life to come, toward which every man who has acquired a love for the inheritance of good things both prays and strives to attain. And may God, who brought us from non-existence into being, and who appoints to rule those fellow-servants by judgments known to Him, guard [you] from every evil, both visible and invisible, and adorn [you] with every virtue, for He knows how to adorn the ruler according to God. ^B

XCII. — Uncertain.

Communes calamities demand common aid; for it is not otherwise possible for common disasters to be repaired unless all, according to their ability, strive for the restoration. Why do we say these things? Certainly your piety did not ignore [them] even before our words, yet we announce them [also]: the collapse of affairs that has occurred through our sins, due to the barbarian and Bulgarian insurrection, requires much care and concern, with God extending His hand, so that it may receive the due restoration. How, however, could this great care be realized, unless, as is manifest, all contribute together that which is necessary, according to their strength, or even beyond their strength? It will therefore be necessary for your perfection, while doing things worthy of your own mind—and yet necessary for the common situation—first of all to provide with a ready mind, from your own Church, an amount of gold such as will not weigh down or burden your [people] in their private utility, but will serve the common [need]; and then, in similar fashion, to carry out the contribution from the monasteries and bishoprics subject to you. For if we ought to aid certain private individuals in distress, according to our ability, so that the distress of the needy might be lifted, how much more [is it necessary] to do so in this common distress? Knowing this well: that with the community saved, the private [interest] of each is surely saved, but when the common things have utterly perished, what salvation remains for the private? ^C As we said, therefore, O our child, collect an amount of gold from the Church which by the grace of God is governed by you, and from the monasteries and bishops—as much as your wise stewardship sees fit—which will neither lead you into unbearable distress nor fail to aid the common [need], and send it by a man faithful to you before the month of March.

We seem to exceed due measure in imposing such bonds upon your perfection; but, the necessity compelling, we add the bond in the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, urging you to bring about this—whether one ought to call it a liturgy or a contribution—so that you do not provide less than is required for common affairs, either by coming yourself, or by sending it through a trusted man before the month of March. ^D

^A And if a delay should occur, or if you, by being mean, contribute less than is necessary to this common need, then imperial men will be sent out, and they will examine your intentions closely and will carry out this collection even against your will. And how great a burden will arise for you from this matter, it is not necessary for me to teach you; for you yourself, even before our words, know perfectly well what is to come.

XCIII. To Theoctistus, Bishop of Claudiopolis.

XCIV. To Gregory, Bishop of Ephesus.

that you have seemingly rejected the humble and ^A lowly ones alongside the great, an act which has afflicted us with singular sorrow. We wondered, indeed, how such a thought could have entered the mind of your perfection; for we were filled with grief in thinking upon your letter. But, as it seems, these are human things, and one ought not to be overly critical of them. Nevertheless, so that you may know that we were wounded in our heart, we have written what we have written.

The letter sent to you, which became the occasion for this grievous matter, was not sent simply to be directed to your holiness, but because, as rumors were constantly reaching us that those who preside over the Churches were disregarding the security established ^B in the common synod, and were performing ordinations in whatever manner they saw fit, we decreed, as a sort of reminder of the things commonly decided, that such a missive should be sent as a type to everyone—not naming your person, heaven forbid, but saying that such a letter had been sent to all. And this was the cause of our sending it, not any vile pretext, nor a change of sentiment, nor a cessation of our initial affection and of the love we bear toward you, my son. We offer these things by way of apology, and at the same time to heal both your heart and mine. As for what follows, we write it so that it may not again become a pretext for distress: it seemed best ^C to those who preside over common affairs that a contribution be made from every Church, as much as is possible; and imperial officers were sent throughout every province. We, however, thinking to provide for the Church, ensured that the imperial officers would not administer this without the consent of the Bishops. You must, therefore, my son, examine the affairs of your own province—I mean those of the episcopal sees and the monasteries—and gather whatever you see that each Church is able to contribute; and either by yourself, or through a man who is faithful to this service, take care that the collected gold be sent to us by the month of March so ^D that it may be managed here.

XCV. To Romanos Caesar

Master and my blessed son: We have heard a rumor (may God grant that this be false) that the Bulgarians have crossed over to Lampsakos and have caused some harm. Whether the rumor is false, let us not disregard what has been said, but with God’s help let security be added to that place; or if it is true, let there be greater and still greater care taken so that nothing else of this kind may occur. For if such a beginning were made, and they should dare, even a little, to invade the region of Lampsakos, we would have need of much labor [D(?) continued] afterward to restore matters to order. Now, therefore, let all care and diligence be applied, so that with God as our co-worker, such an evil may not find a beginning—whether through local *chelandia*, if there be any, or by two *moneres* dispatched from here for the guard and salvation of the place. May God the Holy One, just as He has glorified you with the sublimity of dignity, so also [grant you] the heights of success and the prosperity of public affairs...

and will make you renowned both in the present generation and in the race of men that shall follow it. Since, after God, I know that your justice will be the cause of all your successes—for justice exalts a nation—I also remind you of this, that you should make those who write in reply, and especially the elders who are more honorable in their dignities, content with the progress of their own dignities... and urge them to be more attentive to judgments, having no regard for persons. Add this also: "Since I have been persuaded that you are just men, for this reason I have advanced your dignities, so that you yourselves might increase your virtue still further, and that you might become more honorable not only through your dignity, but also through the increase of your virtue."

XCVI. To Ignatius, Bishop of Nicomedia

We have seen to it that an account be rendered concerning the monasteries and their administration, for the Monomachus has ordered that he render an account to us. Now, whatever his report will relate, and whatever the cleric who will come to you with the nuns will announce, we too write to you. For I said that if the monasteries have acquired certain lands through exchanges, or if they have taken on additional ministers in them, those who perform public service are worthy to fulfill the ministry for them. But if there is no such cause, it is surely an absurd servitude for the monasteries, which hinders their rightful establishment in freedom. But we maintain this: without your presence, nothing further will be accomplished; neither if we speak to those in power, nor if we attempt it in another way will our effort have a result; because our royal minister, [previously] strengthened by your praises, is now, from contrary words, not only not strengthened, but appears to be such as you testified he was, and we receive nothing but reproofs when we disparage his administration. When, therefore, you arrive here, then you yourself, his praiser, will know what you are to say, both concerning his praised deeds and his disparaged ones. For the rest, farewell.

XCVII. To the same

Regarding what you wrote concerning Lord Theosterictus, holy son, namely that a declaration should be made by us of the sentence given by you concerning him, it ^D did not seem to have consistency. For it is neither fitting nor becoming that things judged by others should be confirmed by the declarations of others; but it is appropriate for you, who have handled the matters brought from him to your judgment, to make that declaration, or what is called a "decree." Let it be done in this way: in your declaration and decree, mention that the matters, after having been settled in accordance with our directive, were subject to your examination and sentence; that such and such was done, as the order and succession of events proceeded.

XCVIII. — To the most holy and most blessed brother and fellow-minister.

^A If we are not participants in the dangers by which your holiness is daily pressed, we are nevertheless not strangers to the tribulations and the pains that rend the heart, a fact which you will not refuse to believe. For the charity of the all-holy Spirit knows how to bind together and unite those who are tied by it, so that in the events which happen they are of one mind and make common to themselves both what is sweet and what is painful. Pain, then, is common to us, as we have said. But true and pure charity of the Holy Spirit often knows how to make the sorrow greater for the one who does not share in the sufferings, because the one who loves thinks there to be some gain in the share of the loved one’s evils. When, however, this is not present, he who thinks it a loss not to suffer the same things is afflicted with greater pain. But enough regarding these sorrows. We have, however, consolation in the hope laid up for us, of the good things which Christ our God has prepared for those who suffer for his sake. For while we contemplate for your holiness the eternal rest prepared for these ephemeral pains, we enjoy great consolation and joy, which I know your holy soul also fully enjoys, even though it is held by the fire of temptations, and enjoys and becomes stronger than the conflagration of the afflictions.

^B But regarding these things, for now, let that suffice. As for matters concerning the holy Church of God that is among us—since I suppose that this, if anything, will afford joy to your holiness—we bring you glad tidings that, through your acceptable prayers, those wicked scandals of division have passed from our midst; that the abominable marriage, which would that we had never known it in the Church of God, was introduced—all of us, having been previously carried away, as is the human manner, by the power [of those] who accepted it, along with our humility, have now renounced it and declared it alien to the human race, and especially to the Christian way of life. And henceforth we are all of one soul, one spirit, and one mind, circling the holy altar, they indeed begging for forgiveness, while we, trusting in the mercy from above and having granted the end in accordance with the request, give thanks to Christ our God who has joined together those who were separated and has dissolved the middle wall of enmity. These things have been written so that your holiness, rejoicing in this, may also offer prayers of thanksgiving, begging that the holy Church of God may still be preserved in peaceful stability, and free from any storm in an undisturbed calm. These things have been written to us, O most honored of fathers and brothers. But do you recompense us with your holy prayers, being strong and preserved in God, and, as far as possible, rising above the temptations.

^C But these things are enough, and nothing more.

XCIX. — To an unknown person.

^D We rejoice no less than you, O holy child, at what you announce to us regarding your fellow citizens and the holy…

^A flock, in that you apportion to God’s high priests and to your own father the reverence and honor that is due. It is also our duty to show forth fatherly affection all the more, and care for their salvation, and so much the more as they show themselves well-disposed and obedient. I write these things, not unaware that you do this even without our instructions, but because it appeared to us, according to our conscience, that it was fitting to confer about this together. May God unite them yet further with their Father and Source by the bond of spiritual love, and may He make you, by your very abundant affection towards your children, someone who is more longed-for and honored. And as for your arrival to us, once the days of the saving feast have been fulfilled for you, let it not be placed in the second rank.

C. — To the Metropolitan of Nicaea.

Regarding the other things which, by the grace of God, follow according to your wishes, O holy child of ours, we offer in the Church the due thanksgiving to God who brings about the ordering of affairs; but as for what reaches your ears regarding matters here, I know, even without receiving your letter, that it is unsettled. And what else is it but common gossip? For when it is not possible here to draw a healthy word toward one’s ears—a thing you yourself are not ignorant of—what ought one to think regarding the words that fly from here as far as you? We wrote to you shortly ago to come down to us, and every day we were eagerly expecting your arrival; but as it seems, the letter was given to a man not fit for that ministry, and it did not reach you, as we learned from the courier. ^B Now, therefore, it is necessary for us to write a second letter concerning the same matters. We ourselves, for our part, seek your arrival, and those who possess authority over affairs seek it as well, and they have spoken to us to invite you to do this. Having learned this, child of ours, by all means do not delay in leaving Nicaea and arriving to us.

CI. — To an unknown person.

Friendly and loyal ^C supporters, when they wish to honor their benefactors in the same way as those who have received favors, take care to reward them diligently. And this reward consists in their showing themselves ready to carry out the will of their benefactors. You surely understand, my child; a favor has been granted to you by the emperor whom God has crowned, and a favor whose greatness, so that we might not speak of it ourselves, you have not been ignorant of. It remains, therefore, for you to be seen ready in everything in which his imperial authority seeks your service, so that you may truly appear worthy of the favors, and so that we might be eager to intervene on behalf of such a man. Our great and exalted emperor, indeed, rejoices that you show yourself worthy of such honor, as you recognize those by whom the favor ^D is given. Recognize, therefore, that you have been established in this honor so that you may fulfill his commands. May the Lord keep you well-disposed. In place of a greeting, I have sent you a garment. May the great and God-crowned emperor, by your prayers, provide a docile ear to your requests.

^A He has added that perfection and that dignity to him to whom it was entrusted, just as he himself had greatly desired. These things have indeed been done for you by the emperor. It is therefore worthy of your Perfection to consider how great the benefit is, and on that account to honor the benefactor. And what other honor for a benefactor is there, than if kindness is shown to him in all things by those who have received the benefits, and if care is employed in every way to think upon and accomplish his glory? There is no need for more words; for these things are sufficient to make both your Perfection and his who has obtained dominion over you stable friends in the matters we have mentioned before, and to render your good disposition manifest, both now and to future generations, and to set you up as an example of sincere faith toward benefactors for those who are being benefited.

CII. To the illustrious and most noble by birth, our most glorious friend, the leader, who, by the suffrage of God, has obtained the principate and dominion of the Saracen nation.

As much as you have received from God, O most noble summit of the Saracens, to ^B overtop and sit above all your kin, by so much you ought to excel all others in the rest of the virtues. I say these things not because I doubt that you are such a person; for we know whatever good report brings of you, and from it we learn that, as in your principate, so also in wisdom, justice, and all other moral integrity, you are superior to your subjects. But because an absurd and incredible rumor has reached our ears, that you have become terribly enraged against the Christians living within your dominion without any legitimate cause, but on the pretext of a futile calumny, for this reason we prefix this: for that absurd report declared that your Majesty, having heard from I know not where—truly from the devil, the father of lies from the beginning—that the Saracen oratory existing here had been destroyed by the order of the Roman emperor, and that the Saracens had been forced by violence and against their will to renounce their own faith ^C and to embrace the Christian cult; and that for this reason you had issued an edict for the overturning of the temples of the Christians living under your dominion.

Such is the beginning we have placed at the head of this letter. For you ought not, in the first place, to have turned your ear to this perverse trickery and to the devil; nor, if you did admit a report—which is a human thing—to bring forth such an inhuman order; but it would have been fitting for you to inquire about this rumor, and to be made more certain whether it carried something true or fictitious; and by no means, from just any casual hearing, to condemn the clemency and equity of the Roman empire thus. By how much you, great and ^D exalted in your principate, heard a strange rumor about a great and exalted principate, by so much greater certainty ought to have been sought concerning what was heard, and you ought not to have been seduced by vulgar gossip.

^A For although there are many things in which the Roman race is honored, this one stands out as a preeminent proof of their clemency and equity. And my word is not the witness of this, but from the time that power was established on Roman soil and its dominion was extended across the whole world, all men throughout the entire earth and all history render this testimony. How then was it plausible—among those for whom every language and every history provide common testimony of philanthropy—that you yourself, being, as you claim, a wise man and endowed with experience of human affairs, and having ascended to a dignity befitting such a high position, should claim they had perpetrated such barbaric deeds? It was not fitting, therefore, for your highness, both in principle and in wisdom, to hand over the region of faith as booty to calumniating tongues, which are never lacking, ^B claiming that the Romans had committed such cruelty.

However, since this has happened, and you seek full truth through those sent from there and arriving here, you shall receive from them the requested answer: for they will report to you what they have seen with their own eyes and whose truth they have heard with their own ears. Furthermore, men of your own tribe and faith, who were sent with them, will offer testimony of all the things that have occurred in this imperial city from the time of their captivity, which happened to them and which they themselves have experienced. And perhaps this testimony, provided by your own fellow tribesmen, would have sufficed to instruct you concerning the false rumor that has been spread by those whom you have now ^C sent; nevertheless, we ourselves also write, although we are sinners and unworthy Fathers of the Christian people, and yet disciples of Christ our God, and we have never denied his truth—far be it!—nor have we fallen so far from his guidance and providence.

Hear then, O great man, leader of the Saracen race. Those who have reigned over the Romans from the beginning have so ordained regarding captives, knowing that until the conclusion of the war it is necessary to fight against the malice of the enemy, but that, once they have taken the combatants by their hand, they should care for them as subjects, exercising providence so that their life may not be miserable, and that nothing else sad should happen to them ^D except the deprivation of their fatherland and of their relatives, friends, and parents. And so they grant them spacious dwellings, the enjoyment of the purest air, and all other things that contribute to human life, just as for those of their own race and faith, and a distinct place of prayer for those of your religion. And in brief, as I said before, it seemed good to the emperors of the Romans from the beginning that your captives should fare no worse in any regard than the Saracens living in their own homeland and region, except only in the separation from their kindred. These things having been ordained from the beginning on account of philanthropy, those who held the royal power through each generation have remained, keeping the same purpose even until now. No one could say, with truth unimpaired, that any change for the worse

^A regarding either their dwelling or their general conduct has occurred for the captives of the Saracens from the beginning. And yet, the Christian captives among us, as it is possible to hear from everyone, live in such straits and endure such a miserable life that death is far better and more desirable to them than to be numbered among the living.

Consider this, moreover: why would those who have today obtained the kingdom of the Roman race enact such harsh measures against your fellow tribesmen as your evil rumor-mongers have reported to your ears? For you would not say that they fall short of the philanthropy of those who reigned before them. How, indeed, would such a claim ^B find any room for belief, even if one were resolved to voice it? For if any tortures or methods of death had now been newly invented for your captives, let one of you come forward and say so, and then bring forth that accusation; and yet, you yourselves often inflict violent deaths, foreign to human reasoning, upon the Christian captives. For whenever, instead of cutting off the head with a sword, you slaughter them like sheep, you do not shudder, nor do you feel reverence for our common nature; and whenever you hang a man from a tree and violently drive the life out of him with arrows and stones, ^C what is one to say? But although you do such things, the philanthropy of the Roman race does not imitate this cruelty; but when it is necessary for someone of the Saracens to be deprived of life, in a simple way, free from violence and cruelty, by the mere severance of the head, they remove that person from life. How, then, was it fitting to entertain the suspicion that those who have been gentle and humane from the beginning until now have recently inflicted such violence upon Saracens, equal to what those who manufacture rumors to the command of your authority have falsely brought against your own mildness? But those men, to say nothing more harsh about them, ^D seem to bring such things to your ears out of their ill-will toward the Christians, seeking to extend their malice toward them, and because of their hatred toward Christ our God, who, neither while living on earth, nor when he had returned to his own glory, showed vengeance against any of those who rose up against him, but rather assigned that fearful day on which he will render to each according to his works. But concerning those who attempted to kindle your mildness into anger against the Christians, these things said are sufficient.

We, as if we were present and speaking in our own tongue, communicate these things to you through this present letter. It is not true, O you who have received from God the dominion over the Saracen race, that the report brought to you by men, whoever they may be,

^A who have fashioned this, neither fearing God who searches the hearts, before whose eyes hidden things lie bare of every covering, nor respecting the rational nobility, nor the truth, which brings great dignity to virtue before God and men, taking this as their intention, nor fearing to defile your ears, to which nothing is as dear as the pure truth (for what could be dearer to a prince than the truth, especially the prince of so great a nation as the Saracens?); but they proceeded against all the things I have mentioned, considering falsehood and slander more honorable against those who are in no way conscious of any such deed themselves; and they dared to speak falsely of such things, which were destined to be refuted as lies immediately. ^B

Nothing, therefore, of what was said by them is true, nor did it happen; but it is entirely a fabrication, and to be cast into the realm of falsehood. For the oratory [of your religion] has not undergone destruction, neither now nor before, nor have the Saracens living here been prohibited from visiting it; indeed, it receives as much care as it would if it stood within your own dominion, and those wishing to attend to it do so. However, no Saracen has been forced to deny his own faith by royal command, or by the violence of the magnates and princes, whoever they may be who approach the kings and enjoy their intimacy, and listen to their speech, and delight in the sight of their countenances. But if some of the lowest and most ignoble, and unknown to the kings, being void of prudence and bereft of the counsels of the empire, have presumed to do this, it is not for me to speak at length about this. Nevertheless, the authors of this deed must be revealed, and if the royal power should decide to neglect this matter and not to punish it according to justice, then perhaps it would be permitted for you to blame it and perhaps to turn your wrath against those placed under your hand: although not only does the reason of justice not suggest this, but neither does your own zeal for justice, nor the security given from the beginning by your prophet to those subject to alien hands and lying under your dominion. For why should I, a just man, suffer unjustly under you, doing nothing against your authority, because another, in no way subject to you but free from your lordship, might wish to perform deeds displeasing to you? ^C

What then? For this reason shall Christians, along with their temples, be worthy of suffering mistreatment—they who in every way obey your commands, and who do not dare to move a hand, as they say, without your consent—if the Emperor of the Romans, even if we grant this, should decide to subject to hardships the Saracens in chains under him? And we say these things not because it has happened so (for it has not happened nor will it happen, nor has Roman clemency forgotten itself, nor will it ever forget), but we say these things ^D so that you may know that not even in such a case would you be acting justly by subjecting the Christians under you to hardships. Moreover, the writings of your prophet, which guaranteed security given by him, are abrogated, and

and of your prophet, as are the assurances ^A given by him, and that the justice owed to you as an honor is greatly brought into contempt and invalidation. Do not, therefore, O ornament of the glory of the Saracens, be willing on this account to cast your own glory into disgrace. For who, hearing this—that the first man among the Saracens, and he who is entrusted with their government, casts the Christians subject to him into afflictions and distresses, although they have in no way offended or opposed him—would not conclude that you are acting unjustly and in a manner unworthy of the power entrusted to you by God? For just as every man is worthy, on account of his own virtue, to receive benefits, so also is everyone worthy to bear the accountability for his own faults. For your most magnificent understanding knows well that not even a son, in the case of a father who has frequently offended, becomes a participant in the punishment, unless he also participates in the offense; nor indeed is a brother condemned along with a brother who has done some evil, unless he has become a co-worker in the evil deed; and simply, not even another kinsman with his kinsman, nor a friend with his friend, is punished for a matter worthy of punishment, unless he is shown to be a participant in the act.

Consider, therefore, from this how much more reasonable it is that the Christians under you should suffer nothing severe on account of any violence from the Saracens here—even if we were to grant this, as we have said before, that they were in no way at all, or in any manner whatever, participants in the purpose or the violence of those who have the power to exercise violence here. But this has not even happened, nor has any violence been inflicted upon the Saracens by the Emperor or by those deemed worthy of his conversation or of other knowledge and intimacy; unless perhaps by some of those ^B who are placed in an obscure rank, who, when this is discovered, shall receive appropriate correction. And that we may not seem to be attempting to provide you with conviction regarding this through our own words alone, Saracens have been sent from here, and letters from those taken prisoner here, through which you will receive more fully the information that the aforementioned wicked speech that has reached your ears is from men inspired by the wicked demon, and jealous of the human race, as he has been from the beginning, and who are intent upon inciting the Saracens to calumny, or rather, [are intent upon] ^C casting the Christians into afflictions and miseries under the just judgment of God.

But let these things not escape you, O greatest head of the Saracen nation, nor allow yourself to be led astray by the lies of destructive men; nor attach disgrace to your glory and your great name; nor leave behind a memory for your life that it was under your reign that the sufferings of the Christians increased. But if you have any faith in me, who love both your glory and your salvation, as I do that of all men—for such is my mind, and on behalf of all, although I am a sinner, I pray night and day for salvation—leave behind rather, when you pass from this life, a memorial of philanthropy, a memorial of clemency and justice, and [show] that in the days of your reign your people experienced your clemency and justice, ^D but never suffered injustice or violence.

CIII. — To Godinus, protospatharios of the Emperor, and duke.

^A Many men, as is natural, are wont to have their hidden virtue revealed by time, once the flow of events brings crises into human life. Such a thing, my child, we now see has happened in your case. For even if before this you were not entirely hidden in terms of your prudence and your grasp of affairs, yet now you have become manifest, and you have fully demonstrated your virtue. First, by the great way in which you keep your love for the good inviolate; second, by your gratitude and your refusal to act insolently toward your benefactors; and in addition to these, by the way you, like a good pilot in a storm and confusion of affairs, provide safety for them, even with help from above. For those things through which you strove against the malice of the dissidents—even if you did not completely clear them from the middle—at least in curbing their increase ^B and not allowing them to proceed further, are a witness to the perfection of your virtue. For this reason, our Christ-loving Emperors, approving of both your goodwill and your upright love, make you more of an intimate and a faithful friend, and will render the due rewards for your zeal; and for now, they have provided the fulfillment of your requests. But in the future, too, as your intelligence directs affairs and, together with divine power, as is fitting, combats the apostasy and brings the region back to peace and tranquility, they will grant much better and richer rewards. It is therefore yours, my child, just as up to the present, so also from now on, to be a zealous and faithful friend to the Emperors, and to perform those things that pertain to their service with even greater zeal, and to enjoy more abundant gifts and signs of friendship from them.

CIV. — To Constantine, Metropolitan of Laodicea.

I received the letter of your Holiness when I was already at the very gates ^C of death; yet I do not know whether He who directs and administers our life, and who in His providence grants us what is useful, will give us the means to escape from there, as His economy knows how. Thus it was in my infirmity that I received your letter; and yet, established in such desperation, I felt some sense of comfort, and I gave thanks to the common Lord and God and great High Priest. And I know that your prayer is humble; nevertheless, I offer it up, requesting to reach the end with an untroubled disposition of soul and body. As for the other part of the letter, perhaps it was not necessary for us to ask; for we have a Master who teaches us how one ought to pray, He who brought us to the knowledge of Him and illuminated us, and who also teaches us those things which are of prayer. It is not possible, therefore—it is not possible—that he who fulfills that short ^D and saving instruction on prayer with the proper disposition of soul, should not obtain the promised goods. You have also the blessed Apostle as

well, teaching the manner of prayer, as he urges us to lift up holy hands without wrath and disputing; disputing, clearly, of those things that distract one toward the vanity of life, and the laborious but profitless toil thereof. For this reason he mentioned this in the plural. For he who possesses the desire for the kingdom of heaven is not whirled about by thoughts from this side and that, but receives one formless thought, and keeping this unswerving, finds the truly profitable possession of that blessed thought, and the rest perpetually annexed to it. We have therefore set forth our mind in this perplexity. But do you, our holy son, illuminated in soul and mind by Him who anointed you with the most holy Spirit, and proceeding in a manner worthy of your virtue, receive the instruction for the thing sought from Him rather. Furthermore, may you yourself be safe, passing through the brine of life noiselessly and undisturbed, remembering us in your holy prayers, perhaps while we are still tossing in this life, which is uncertain, or when we have departed, which seems to me to be more clearly imminent than the vanity of this life.

^B CV. — To an uncertain person.

I know, son, when you yourself told us this, that you wish to remain in the monastery of your blessed father and live among the monks there, having need of nothing else but only of a small room in which you are to have your dwelling and learn the earnest and diligent study of the life according to God. I remember these things, having heard them from you; and for this reason, to the monks who have come to us from that monastery, we have spoken to them and we write to you to go away into the monastery, and there, as you asked, perform your sojourn. But since we have heard ill rumors concerning him who presides—and not merely from you, but rumors highly alien to monastic piety—and have heard the like from the monks who said similar things, a man shall be sent to conduct an investigation of the reports. And if he should find the words to be void of falsehood, that man, as being corrupt, shall be recalled from the headship; but another, whom the brethren shall judge worthy of being set in authority, and whom our humility, upon examination, shall recognize as being capable, he shall receive the government of the monastery. You, my son, do not forget your initial purpose, nor quench the ardor and zeal of your heart, by which you hastened toward the monastic life; but rather, with divine grace assisting you, be more zealous and more intent, as one ascending by a kind of ladder, and always, as much as you are able, proceeding toward the things that are before, and not turning back to the things that are behind.

^D CVI. — To the Archbishop of Cherson.

It was fitting, or rather, it was a debt owed by your perfection, to disregard the annoyances and fears that arise from the sea, and, emboldened by the hope from above, to attain unto these parts, so that you might rejoice and be glad with us and with the whole fullness of the Church of God, as

befits a God-loving soul, over such and so great unity and the cessation of the former schism. But since the fear of the sea and the labor of the journey prevailed, and caused you the loss of the holy joy of coming to us, we do that which can console you for this loss, and write to you—not out of reproach for what you feared, nor rebuking you for your timidity, but granting you pardon, and letting you know that no disturbance has arisen in our mind because you did not wish to make the journey to us. ^A Rather, we have received with great admiration what you have carried out with such eagerness toward the nation that was deceived and nearly snatched from the bosom of piety by the evil demon; and we exhort you, according to your ability, to continue to take upon yourself the care and zeal for their salvation, so that their union and salvation might be completely preserved for Christ and our God, regarding as nothing all the fear and labor and every other trial that arises in such a ministry, because of the expected reward and enjoyment for such labors. For if the bringing of even one soul to Christ has an incomparable reward—for he who brings forth the worthy from the unworthy, as he says, shall be as my mouth—what gift could ever be found equal to such a deed? You must consider, in your wisdom, how great a grace is laid up for you from God for setting right such a multitude of people, making them worthy who were unworthy; and regarding the future bishop for them, we ^B entrust the care to you: so that with your thoughtful consideration a man fit for such a work may be found and sent to us, so that in the most holy Spirit he may receive the order of the laying on of our hands for the episcopacy, and be established as pastor for a flock that has, until now, lacked a shepherd. These things are sufficient for your understanding, as you have an innate solicitude for this matter, which you have abundantly demonstrated by the efforts you have previously undertaken.

CVII. — To the Bishop of Cyzicus.

I know not whether it is the malice of the demon that perpetually troubles human society, or the perverse will of men that has struggled to mix up the things that were determined by the previous judgment concerning the discussion between you and the Blachernites. ^C But again, holy son, the judgment has returned to its own state; and in the future let matters remain as they were settled, and when our father and son, the archbishop, comes to us—if we are still to be numbered among the living—that which shall seem best to us when we have examined it together will be fulfilled with greater peace and without sorrow.

CVIII. — To the Bishop of Pissenus.

Observing the injuries to the Churches of God daily, even without your letters, our soul is torn asunder. But now, what your letter announces ^D causes a deeper laceration day by day; especially because a man who ought to have been meditating upon why he spurned his own salvation and exchanged the monastic life for a military one, acts so audaciously and immoderately against the Church,

yet, in accordance with your request, a royal command was dispatched, as well as our own letter to the person to whom you requested it be sent. Therefore, if he has any care for honoring God, and if he regards the honor of the Church as one of her children, he will fulfill the things commanded, cutting off the impulse of that wretched man toward wickedness and casting away the affliction of your heart which you indeed manifest. Truly, the aid was sent to where its utility was greater; for it is clear that you have more need of this subsidy. We received it, however, so that when, God willing, you come to us to demand an account of the expenses incurred, you may understand that so much aid should not have been sent to the indigent and the poor. But a covering for the sacred head has been sent to you. Farewell, our holy son.

CIX. — To an Uncertain Person.

^B When illness already began to afflict us, the bishop who brought your letter, and who had not yet come to us, indicated through others who he was and what had been done by him up to that point. He was, indeed, the accuser of his own preceding errors, regarding which human nature is little on its guard. But now, with his whole soul, he confesses his sin and, repenting, he has run to the Church of God, seeking peace and entreating with prayers that he be recognized as a sheep of the sacred flock of God, and requesting the pardon which the Church is accustomed to grant to those who are contrite in spirit. These things, as I said, were done when the sickness was beginning, and when we were already at the gates of death, nothing more occurred. But now, since by the judgments which the Lord of our life knows, hopes have once again emerged (for who, indeed, knows whether they truly say that we are to be among the living again?), he has stirred up the same requests and offers his entreaty. And we, holy son, along with all the other members of the Church, seek its integrity and exemption from scandals (for this, as you well know, if we have cared for any other thing, we have cared for while living), and we carry this deep concern with us as we depart from here, nor will this labor for the Church depart from us, even now.

^C What, then, do I say? Since he has approached the Church of God, and without our words—for your perfection knows that it is not just for us to spurn the man. For where is it just to spurn him who has been wandering for so many years, but now desires to return? Or rather, why shall we not imitate the merciful and benevolent Father, who, as you know, performed such deeds for the return of his wandering son? I know, therefore, that there is no need for my words to you so that you might open to him the bowels of mercy, so that you might receive him, and show him everything that a true priest of God, who prepares to adorn his own priesthood in imitation of the first Priest, ought to show. Moreover, the man's request is neither burdensome nor onerous, nor contrary to custom;

^A but it is that which has been customary from the beginning down to the present day. What is this? To return to the church which he has perversely neglected, and for the presiding bishop who is there in his place to vacate it, until a suitable place is found that might receive him as bishop. This stands as the request which the man proposes, and we have made it known to you. For the rest, let your piety take care, and administer the church as is fitting, and receive the bishop who returns from a long error with paternal bowels of compassion, and be willing to deal with him in such a way that he might appear pleasing to God ^B and to his own chief priest. As for him who currently presides in the requested church, exercise providence, as has been said, until, finding a suitable place, you might establish him in the episcopate. We, therefore, wished to make these things known to you. But the whole matter is subject to your adjudication and your providence according to God over both bishops, since both function in their office under your hand.

CX. — To Pissenuntius the Bishop.

^C Having learned of your health both from your letters and from the mouth of him who brought them to us, we gave thanks to the author of good things, Christ our God, Who, holy son, may He preserve both your soul and body under the wings of His own goodness, far from every experience of malice! As for us, ^D we have been seized by illness, which afflicts us because of our sins, as much as the corrector of our failings willed to test us with such a scourge. But now, because He is continually entreated, He has relaxed it somewhat, although that which remains from the previous evil still affects me. Whatever end our humble life may reach, may the name of the great God and our Savior Jesus Christ be, as it is now and ever, blessed. As for the rest, do not cease to remember us in your prayers, whether we live with you or whether we depart from this scene.

CXI. — To an Uncertain Person.

Pleasant were the letters of your piety, because words gush forth from a sweet soul. For what is sweeter than a soul that abounds with the love of the Spirit, as your soul, possessing this, pours forth such words? Nevertheless, omit the praises on behalf of our humility and pray; for this is sweeter to us, and, if we are honored with this grace, we shall be content. For praises belong to others who are worthy of being praised; as for us, being conscious that there is nothing in us worthy of praise, but rather that we are in need of prayers, we rejoice in those prayers indeed made for us.

CXII. — To Theoctistus, Bishop of Claudiopolis.

With as much joy and gladness as it is fitting for a father to enjoy when he hears of the health and salvation of his children, we have enjoyed this, since our brother-priest beloved by God has arrived, announcing to us by his own mouth that you, by divine grace, continue free from every affliction. And

announcing to us by his own mouth that you, by divine grace, continue free from every affliction. ^A And we give thanks to holy God for this, and we pray that we may always receive such news regarding you. Since, however, the straits of circumstances do not permit us to catch our breath, and being hemmed in by such things, we who are but weak men have need of the consolation provided by those around us (and you know that nothing consoles so much as the conversation of children), we desired that you should be with us. If, therefore, matters there do not keep you there out of necessity, come to us. If there is some more pressing necessity, assist us meanwhile with your holy prayers as far as you are able, and your presence, since it is not permitted now, will surely take place when God grants it. For the rest, we pray that you keep well and remember our humility.

CXIII. To Nicetas of Athens

^B The good pilot wisely avoids rising waves, and does not steer the ship toward those by which it might be utterly swamped; likewise a physician, who through his art undertakes the care of the sick, applies his effort, even if he cannot make the patients entirely healthy, by providing a remedy to diminish the troublesome infirmity. You see, I suppose, to what this opening tends. Unless we are willfully handing ourselves over to ignorance, it is evident that the Church of God is situated in such a tempest and surging sea, and so great a billow is being raised against us from within and from without, that we have cause to fear that we might founder completely every day—or, rather, every hour. And yet you drive out from the churches bishops ordained by them, whom we have not yet publicly deposed. ^C Does it escape your notice that neither Sabas, who occupied the see of Athens before you, nor any other of those of his rank, has been deposed, except for the four who have already been deposed—I mean Demetrius, Gabriel, Gregory, and Cosmas, who, even if he was not deposed for the same reason as the other three, was nonetheless removed from the see because of the slanders spread from Rome? Everything and each individual thing is ordered in its own time; whatever is not done at the appropriate time is imperfect, and what is imperfect cannot necessarily stand. If you had weighed the times and the difficulties of these affairs, you would never have done what you have done. Indeed, I do not know how you were incited to this. ^D If you have any care that the Church may not be further troubled, and that our humility may not be vexatious, let the man exercise his episcopate and remain until the will of the Church is made manifest and the contention of the malevolent gives way to condemnation or takes some other turn. We pray that you fare well in soul and body, and we commend our humility to your prayers.

CXIV. To Basil, Metropolitan of Chaldaea

The subject matter of this letter is necessary for the bearer; having satisfied his request, we have found an occasion to write. As for the matter itself, however, it seems to us neither necessary before now nor today. For as for us, neither previously nor now...

have we considered that your holiness would wish to be the cause of sorrow for anyone, not only to one who is innocent, but not even if there were some reasonable cause—such as human affairs often produce—becoming the occasion of sorrow. For in such a case, even if the cause admits of a remedy, he who has occasioned it, being in every way treated, will not grieve. But if the evil has rushed toward the incurable, not even in that case will the sorrow be yours, but rather a result of the nature of the matter. ^A Enough of this. Let us now proceed to the matter about which we intended to write. He who brings you this letter complains, as he says, to your holiness that he was driven out of the monastery in which he had spent very many years and had been entrusted with the supervision, having committed no such thing, nor anything worthy of expulsion from there. Know that this, having been reported to us, has deeply touched our soul. If, therefore, you care that I should not be grieved, restore the man to his own position, fearing nothing of what you suspect. For no one will take the monastery from your absolute authority, neither we, nor anyone else, so long as we dwell here. ^B

CXV. To Euthymius, Metropolitan of Antioch.

We have heard bitter news, which may God keep far from the truth! We have heard that you are suffering from an illness, and for that reason are hindered from returning to us for such a long time. We have sent [this messenger] both to learn about what we have heard, and that there might be, also for you, while you are recovering—which may God grant—some consolation in the arrival of the one who has been sent to you. For I know that even if nothing else were distressing you, this very thing, the separation from us, puts you in need of consolation. May God grant that, being delivered from every illness and every sorrow, you may arrive quickly and be seen by us. ^C

CXVI. To Philip, Bishop of Larissa.

We have learned from your letter the affliction of your heart, and we have also learned that you harbor a suspicion concerning our humility, namely, that the pain has come to you from us. We, too, are greatly afflicted by the sorrow of your heart. For it is not our intent to be a source of sorrow to you, our most beloved son, bishop, and most intimate of our friends, since we do not plot anything of this kind even against those who are hostile to us. We grieve at your suspicion, and all the more because we have in no way provoked it. For nothing more deeply afflicts our heart than to observe that you have fallen into a vain suspicion. ^D We have by no means committed any act against a man who envies your position, nor has any such thought ever occurred to us, nor did we entrust the Archbishop of Thebes to consecrate a church belonging to you. But, instructed by patriarchal privileges, we have determined that the temple belongs to him who consecrated it. We do not hold your virtue in low regard, but since the distance of the places was not perfectly known to us, we thought the way and the execution of the mandate was more convenient and expeditious for him than for you; in this way, the matter was indeed carried out.

But you ought, having been instructed in the truth, to lay aside your sorrow. Why? Because from this time forth the consecrated temple is from your eparchy, and it will entirely continue under you, and you will not suffer as regards the matter belonging to you from its having come about contrary to reason. ^A

CXVII. To Leo, Bishop of Sylaium

At the beginning of our letter, we make plain to you the state of our soul; for we are moved to write to you not without the greatest sorrow. For how could we not be tormented by the most bitter hardships? The best causes were present, and to us who were considering everything, certain consolations were arising, because God was to be glorified, and eternal honor was to be gathered for you; those who were previously weighed down were to be raised up and assisted by your dignity, because you had been raised to the pontifical throne as a support for the Church. Alas! Whither have those reasons departed? The hostile demon has devoured them, as we learn daily from those wretches who flee to us. You see now with what commotion of soul this letter is written to you. Daily and without end there arrive now monks, now laymen, now clergy, to bring complaints against you—from whom they say they have been expelled—and although it were your duty, as pontiff, to deliver them with a strong hand, they are deprived of your aid and flee rather to the powerful to be delivered. ^B

I omit the rest. For there is present the head of the monastery, pouring forth tears, broken in spirit and suffused with shame. The reason is that, by your command, he himself has been expelled with his monks. I do not know what spurred you to this, nor what appearance of justice has moved you to such a violent assault. And yet, if any just reason were present for such an action, it should have been brought before the patriarchal power before it was carried out; matters were not to be handled by you in anger, but you should have proceeded to this see and submitted the dispute, so that it might be deliberated what ought to be done. If you care, my son, for my life, already overcome with grief, do not show such harshness to those who have been placed under your power; beware of moving the tongues of all against us; for in this way, those who, mindful of your benefits, would have given thanks to God, turned to injuries, pursue my head with dire imprecations. Those who are not content with their lot, as you know, very often attack their own superiors as if they had evil from them, and devote their heads to curses: this, beloved son, let us avoid with all our might, as the Apostle commands, ^C that we should be without offense not only to the faithful, but also to the Jews and the Gentiles [1 Cor. x, 32].

We do not ignore, therefore, that many are ill-disposed toward you and are stirring up a malicious struggle, so that your Church may suffer detriment through the thing which, ^D according to the Apostle, we are taught to be free from offense—not only...

those of higher station, but ^A also those of lower, it is rare to find one who is not mastered by this passion. However, my child, whenever such a thing arises, apply the intelligence and prudence appropriate to the high priesthood to those who are involved, and do not act to vindicate yourself, nor take anything for yourself out of autonomous power, nor defraud those who hold the object in question. Rather, whether by yourself or through another of your suitable associates, approach those who have been appointed to judge according to legal form, and abide contentedly by what is decreed by a just decision, so that even those who wrongfully hold something, once they are stripped of their ill-gotten gain, may have nothing to grumble about against you, and so that what you have gained through justice may bring you no blame, nor any outcry from others. These things, I say again, I have written to you while suffering greatly; and if you care anything for a suffering father, do not hereafter place us under the necessity of writing such things to you. May the Lord keep you in health and in all things living in a manner pleasing to Him, and ever praying for our humility.

CXVIII. To Peter, Archbishop of Alania.

Bodily distance does not know how to separate those who are united in spirit, but—if one may say something paradoxical—the separation of bodies even brings about a greater union of spirits, since all effort tends ^B towards this: that it might most closely couple minds, and not permit them to be separated in the manner of united bodies. Therefore, do not lose heart because we are physically apart, but rather, as I said before, reflect within yourself that we are more closely joined in spirit. For this reason, you must maintain that tension of mind by which the correct use of reason is restrained. Strive with all your might, you who have received the gift of the Holy Spirit, and, filled with priestly exultation, restore your mind to the joy that has come to pass for Christ and for us, His humble servants, and for His glory and benefit; then, cast far away the anxieties of your soul and the cares of your mind. For often, men, moved by earthly gain, undertake long journeys, and, deprived of parents, wives, and children, not only do not lose heart, but sometimes ^C even cheerfully endure the distance from their own, because the hope of gain converts sadness into joy. What, then, should those think who obtain such profit as even the angels themselves desire, and for which one only waits to catch a glimpse? But it is likely that, while reflecting that you can no longer come to see one another, your heart is pricked by a fervent longing for us; and if this also should be for the best, the Good One will provide it. But if He should cut off such enjoyment, yet in its place He will grant something better; we entrust ourselves to His kindness, which neither time, nor place, nor any other external condition separates, but which ever remains for those who participate in it, providing an unfading joy. May our merciful Father and God Himself, my child, be with you ^D unceasingly and assist

you in the things for which you minister to His Gospel, and may He loosen the gloom of every despondency and grant you that unfading radiance.

CXIX. To Andrew, Bishop of Patras.

The extent of the distress by which we are surrounded, my child, you cannot be ignorant of, even if we do not tell you. For the state of affairs is such that it escapes neither you nor any other person whatsoever. Since to the evils that already press upon us here, others are flowing in daily from other places, and causing us, already burdened, to be more constricted. Therefore, those who are set over various places ought to apply all diligence, and especially you, my child, toward your own subjects, so that we might not be pressed by greater disturbances; for where something happens on one side or the other—as is the way among men—it is our duty to minister in those same places whatever comfort or remedy for the evil there might be; for it is always our task to raise up those who have collapsed and, by adding resolve, to lead the disorderly back to their senses. ^B And what of the fact that, when I can no longer drag along a life broken by miseries, and my nerves are stretched by afflictions and my spirit is cast down, there arrive from your parts those who stir up greater miseries for me? Among these was the monk Gregory, who says that he has been driven out of the monastery in which he had taken the tonsure and in which, by his virtues, he had obtained the leadership—a dignity ^C that was fitting for him, especially according to the inheritance granted to his family. He adds as well that some guest and stranger, who has no right to govern the monastery, nor any better way of life, nor any other such familiarity to offer, has been substituted by you into the governance of the monastery. We write this to you so that, if he who brings our letter has stated the truth, and there is no cause that removes him from governing the monastery, let him not be deprived by your God-loving self of the leadership that falls to him according to the word of justice. But if there is any opposing factor ^D by which he is shown to be unworthy of such an authority, at the very least provide him with the relief that is due, and as much as possible, a life free from distress. If you have any care, my child, for our own sorrows and pains, in every way, as a priest of God, and necessarily bound to demonstrate compassion, bestow your care upon him.

CXX. To Tryphon the Monk.

The gift is sweet, and your words were not only sweet but also brought no little relief to our soul, which is surrounded by pressing evils. Therefore, we have been eager, Father, to exhort your holiness toward the consolation and dissolution of our afflictions through your holy prayers. But bearing in mind that words which proceed from deeds carry great force among holy men, I refrained from changing much. For even without our requesting it, you continue, in the manner of friends who share the sorrows of their friends, to act and write in every way, and to pray for our life—how shall I say it—which is from every side beleaguered, rendered miserable by things from without and things from within.

CXXI. To Leo the Patrician and Anatolic Duke

CXXII. To Ambrose the Bishop

CXXIII. To Andrew, Bishop of Patras

^A for we know that the heavy hands have now seized the opportunity to show their own weight. But however much weight they possess, we, by reason of our sins, to that extent lack the strength to defend ourselves, at least as far as human affairs go. What then must be done? First, we must implore divine help and stir up the bowels of His mercy, so that He may avert the damage from His holy Churches and convert all to salvation. Then, in so far as it is possible, we should approach them with gentleness, kindness, and persuasive words, with which we might be able to soothe their hearts, offering assurance that we care not simply for governance, but for the salvation of the Churches of God and for the prevention of their own destruction; for those who ravage the Churches are ignorant that they are making themselves captives, and falling away from the riches and glory of God, and are being led by the enemy and adversary of the human race from the beginning, and are being reckoned with him ^B for eternal condemnation. Nevertheless, as regards those for whom you said you were making the dissolution of the monasteries, our letters have been sent to as many as are present there, containing both plea and rebuke, in case they might perchance listen to what has been written. But as for those who have fled hither, you must come yourself. For perhaps in this way, with the words being directed to the harassers in our presence by you, some benefit will be produced. As for the monastery which you requested, it is our prayer that by the providence of God, it may come to such a state of improvement that neither we may have cause for regret, nor you for complaint, regarding its administration of goods, or the deterioration of the lives of the monks living there.

CXXIV. To Gregory, Bishop of Ephesus

^A unknowingly bringing ourselves up to the order of the angels, and now down to the troop of petty demons. Such are the wretched things of men, alas how can I say it, whether involuntarily we are enslaved to the carnal mind, or voluntarily to both mind and endeavor. But you, O man of God, if ever at any other time, now by the precise criterion of your understanding intervene in the dispute concerning the man, and take thought to deliver both us and yourself, perhaps from human reproach, and perhaps also from divine judgment.

CXXV. To an unknown person

We are not unaware of how many things afflict your God-beloved soul. But what must be done, other than to bear it patiently and prudently yield to the times? For when difficult matters are joined by the difficulties of the times, there is no way to establish peace; you will see all these things occurring in the administration of affairs from the beginning even until now. So you too, my son, obeying the common and worldly order, bear patiently what may befall, namely those things which the cunning malice of the time brings forth. Therefore, with God’s favor, in a short time, in whatever way it is possible, you will correct them; but do not undertake a preposterous correction, on account of the efforts and machinations of those who pursue malice, lest you bring troubles upon yourself and provide an opportunity for affairs to proceed for the worse. Concerning these matters we write to you, having been taught by experience, so that we may provide certain things for your mind to consider. May ^B God grant a conversion of affairs for the better, which may free you from sorrows and accord with his own counsels.

CXXVI. To Ignatius, who became a Master and lived a monastic life in the Great Field

Both now and previously, having received great consolation from the letters which your reverence has sent to us (who are afflicted on account of our sins), we have offered thanksgiving to God, the giver of all good things, who has kept for us a truly sincere and spiritual love, almost all men who had promised to possess this towards us having forgotten their own promise. But as I said, the Good One has preserved you for us, at once setting you forth as an example of most perfect virtue for those who wish to imitate ^C what is good, and at the same time bestowing upon us a great comfort in this time of surrounding sorrows. And concerning the things which you have well and prudently and worthily of your reverence suggested regarding the Church of God, know that these have existed in us from the beginning with much desire and effort. But as it seems, even here, my sins rising up against me, I fall short of my longing. For those who have sinned against the Church of God, far from weeping for their own misery and perceiving the depth of their evils on account of the Church having been wretchedly betrayed, rather they excuse themselves by putting forth various pretexts, and not only do they not come to the hills of humility, but they even ascend into the mountains of pride. But they, ^D who on account of the good state of the Church have suffered many things

only do they not come to the hills of humility, but they even ascend into the mountains of pride. But those who have suffered grievous things for the sake of ecclesiastical order, and are hardened in other respects, and most of all for the reason I mentioned, reasonably shut against them the bowels of compassion. I have been brought to extreme perplexity, and between these and those I am tossed as if in a sea with no way out, looking only to the divine providence and governance, and awaiting help from thence, since every human design is brought to an impasse. For to abandon one’s own and to join with those who were lately adversaries is impossible; and together with the impossible, it is entirely absurd. And that they are unwilling to be persuaded again by our word excludes them from that unity with them, even against their will. What then must be done? Or rather, should we not with more fervor, through your holy prayers, beseech Him who founded His Church with His own blood to reconcile all through His unsearchable and all-wise counsel, and to provide the solution to such a great evil as He Himself knows how, since I see all human efforts defeated by their contentiousness and preference? ^B

CXXVII. To Leo the spatharios and judge of Paphlagonia.

No gift is so sweet to those united by the love that is in God, as that those who love should learn of the welfare of those who are loved. With this most beautiful and sweetest gift we have been delighted, and are delighted, and we pray to God that such a joy may never leave us. The gifts of sheep you sent us were also sweet, and that too when you are a judge, and one who ought to prosecute avarice. Or does it not seem to you to be avarice to deprive the lambs of food, so that not only you may live in luxury, but that you may also provide for your friends to feast with you? Nevertheless, for your sake we received them gladly; but see that you also mitigate the avarice of others, and do not cease to honor your friends with such gifts. ^C

CXXVIII. To Basil of Chaldia.

The fact that you kindly manifested signs of friendship to us even before the sorrowful news had reached our ears has been most acceptable to us. But when we learned of the adversities of your people, which this bitter time, full of tribulations of every kind, brings forth, we fell into sadness of heart. And being held in great perplexity, as in an impasse, we first brought our common distress to the Protector and Savior of all, beseeching Him either to grant a solution to the troubles, or, if He should not be so pleased, to grant us, according to His own wisdom and judgments, the patience to bear them with thanksgiving, so that we might not, while we suffer such things as we do, fall away from the rewards of patience. But these things are for the philanthropic Master; furthermore, as far as we were able to devise relief for you from worldly aid, this too has not been cast aside in indifference, ^D but we have requested that it be written to the general to restrain those who are attacking the Churches of God, and the tongues of the—as you say—heretics.

^A let them not trouble you at all. Why? Because their railing does us no harm, but on the contrary, if we wish, we may even derive great profit from it. For when one reviles and we bless, when one insults and we pray earnestly, bearing the insults of those with evil tongues meekly and philosophically, we do not need to be told how much profit we gain from this. How, then, is it right for us to be vexed over things from which we gain profit?

Do not therefore be discouraged, my holy child, nor be overcome by grief; but let them boast in their own shame, while you look to the participation in honor shared with Christ, our God, who was subjected ^B to insults, spitting, and blows; not to mention His ignominious death. I therefore offer great thanksgivings that, in return for a small amount of empty talk, such a great enjoyment of divine glory awaits you! As for the smitten bishops and priests, as far as time permits, they certainly shall obtain help from men, as we indicate to those who are able to be of assistance. Furthermore, it pertains to your holy prudence not only to take counsel for yourself, but also to encourage them and lead them to patience, because it is for our sins that we have been delivered into this state. But ^C not only so, but also to endeavor to smooth the harshness of the rulers through gentleness and the goodness of your character, with God Himself assisting in this, and not to make their disposition more savage by becoming harsh ourselves. Above all, by always bringing to mind the sufferings of our holy and blessed Fathers, we ourselves are relieved of the weight of terrible things, and with God we lift up our brethren who are being tested by similar calamities; and let us not be baptized in despondency, knowing that just as it is proper for the lovers of the world to live in luxury and pleasure, so it is for the lovers of God to spend their life in afflictions and a succession of hardships. And who would grant me to say this even concerning the terrible things that consume me night and day, and that these present sufferings are not the beginning of future torment?

CXXIX. To Leo, Bishop of Sylaeo

The things which we previously commended to your virtue were heard by us; and our letter enjoined them. But now ^D your letter having arrived, and through it we have learned of the wretchedness of that man, we have lamented both the human frailty and the soul-destroying harm brought upon that miserable man, if he has indeed so wretchedly disposed of himself. We exhort you not to be indignant; for if your virtue has been falsely accused by some, and the necessity has been laid upon us to write more severely, you had a cause for rejoicing rather than for grief: for thus you have obtained an opportunity to repel the calumny, and have investigated that pernicious fall more diligently with other persons. We are indeed aware that this man will attempt new disturbances by saying that he is not held in friendship by you; therefore he will refuse whatever you may request, [nor] for the sake of this [will he...] to other men

to be requested, whatever you yourself may decide; for this reason we have entrusted this investigation to other persons, so that there may be left for him no excuse at all for contradiction or justification. But you, our child, whether we write or do not write, knowing that you have been placed in the mystical porch like a light-bearer holding the word of life, so think and act, that whoever may be able to see by the light of your works may glorify our Father who is in heaven, and may render unto you the fitting praises due to you, giving thanks that it has fallen to their lot to enjoy such an excellent priest. ^A

CXXX. To Ignatius, Bishop of Cyzicus.

Although it is late and difficult, we have nevertheless received your letters, and having learned from them the facts concerning you, we have obtained some release from the anxieties that were pressing upon us regarding you. For such a long time had elapsed, and having heard nothing of you by word, by letter, or even by a piece of empty rumor, we remained in great distress over all the things with which we are afflicted because of our sins; especially since your holiness had given us a promise that immediately after the Exaltation of the all-holy and life-giving Cross you would leave those parts to return ^B here. Nevertheless, thanks be to the holy God, who has at last in the present time given us the ability to learn about your archiepiscopate. Why need I write more? We point out only this: come quickly, leaving behind delays and postponements. For affairs are not of such a nature that they will achieve any stability while you remain abroad.

CXXXI. To Tryphon the Monk.

Having found great consolation in the letter of your holiness, we have rendered thanks to God, the guardian of our life, full of sorrows, who moved you to write and to exhort our humility. But just as with your words, so do not delay in your arrival to be with us and to commune with us; this is what is required by current events, and because the Lord gives the word of discourse, to offer us consolation in your own tongue. ^C But regarding what you requested, we will proceed as much as the management of affairs permits; for we are subject—whether we will it or not—to the necessity of events. We pray for your well-being in all other respects, and do not forget our humility.

CXXXII. To Gregory, Bishop of Ephesus, and Photius of Heraclea, who are in exile.

Neither to you, my children, is the bitter anguish of my humble heart hidden, nor are we in ignorance concerning your own torments and pains. For the unity of the all-holy Spirit, which has disposed us toward ^D the same thoughts and the movement of a single heart, has united us as if to suffer together, and has prepared us to know accurately each other’s suffering. What then? Let us all together render thanks to God, because under the favor of God we do not succumb to persecutions, and because, though mortified by threats and reproaches, we live—made alive by God—safe and sound. Truly, it is possible even now to see the generation of divine and miraculous works; for God delivers His servants from the very jaws of wild beasts and lovingly preserves them safely through the midst of

and from the furnace of fire, keeping those who have committed their own salvation to the providence of the Most High unharmed. These things coming to my mind are a great consolation and a recovery from despondency. Do you also, my children, pondering these things within yourselves—even if the trials that beset you are heavy—lift up your spirits to a higher level with hope for the better, as befits your priestly perfection; continue to endure every tribulation. We have many assurances of divine help, and I am confident that while He will turn His eyes from my sins, He will show Himself a kind Savior to the very end and will never cease to assist. If, however, grieved by my sins, He chastises me for a little while, nonetheless He will receive me with the greatest kindness; ^B but those who are puffed up by their own malice He will strike with much greater pain and sadness than that in which they today boast with joy. I salute you in the Lord, and as if present in spirit I embrace you, and I commend our humility to your prayers.

CXXXIII. To Peter, Archbishop of the Alans.

The miseries which we have learned of from your letter and the state of affairs which now exists have afflicted our soul with sorrow, yet not so as to cast aside consolation entirely; for hope intervenes in afflictions and tribulations, penetrates to the inmost soul, and removes bitterness with persuasive words. ^C Indeed, having known for a long time the state of affairs to which you have been promoted by the Holy Spirit, we judge it neither easy nor free from labors. From your letter we have seen what has happened to you, and we perceived nothing therein that was unforeseen, even though the events are sad; nevertheless, the evil seems to us tolerable, because you will have a reward. We say this, however, not to deny the present difficulties. But that which you suspect, as we have discovered through your letter—namely, that you have been cast out as it were from our heart—seems to us by no means tolerable and has inflicted a lethal wound. ^D We were confident that we would never have heard this even from our enemies, let alone from our sons or friends! For how could he who has been appointed leader and savior—second only to our first Savior and God—of the people of God, fall into such a suspicion, unless he had first forgotten the salvation of God and men? For what can be imagined more miserable than forgetting both God and the conversion of men to Him who delivers us from the tyrannical power of the devil?

You see, my son, with how much sorrow your letter affects us beyond all the evils by which we are surrounded on account of our sins? Yet if you recall the time which you spent with us before your journey, you will never find that you have been given over to oblivion, having left behind the infernal regions in the human manner and those who have a worse condition there. From these there are no longer invidious plots, war, and snares by which we are thence

^A hindered. You act as if accusing those who are dead. But you should rather be accused and not heard by men who would not approve of you in the least. The principality was not to be undertaken by you, or if it was to be undertaken, it should have been with sound judgment, having repelled false suspicions of the mind and sophistries; certainly, such things ought not to have been written to us: we thought that certain delights were to be perceived from you, and not only have the delights failed, but even weariness has ensued. Having heard this accusation against you, than which none can be greater, we could not restrain ourselves from weariness. But let it suffice to have said these things. For if there is anyone whose memory we can by no means expel from our soul, it is yours, because you have been sent to instruct a new people in piety, and for whose sake you have been worn down by anxieties; we, for our part, have it in our prayers that your work may be completed, and that it may enjoy divine favor and aid. Furthermore, if no letters are sent to you by us, know first of all that we do not abound in couriers. For we live in such straits of circumstance ^B that most men fear to encounter us. Then consider also this, that if we write, it is not without danger, lest perhaps by inciting others to battle we render them participants in our own guilt.

These things suffice; only this one thing I add: that you may complete the noble contest and divine service to which you have been called by grace, being strengthened by God, my holy son; as for us, whether we send letters or do not send them, do not be anxious about it; but be persuaded that you are present in my thoughts. Truly, we have great concern for you and we pray that you may never be destitute of the most beneficent Divinity in the affairs of life. Regarding the illegitimate marriage, if it is possible, by exhortations and instruction, to dissolve the union, thanks be to God for all things. If, however, the power of the situation stands against it, at least ensure that the evil does not progress, and for the future do not allow men to advance to such marriages. This is what you will do, usually by advising both the leader of the nation and the man to whom it is permitted to cohabit because of the union that has already occurred. Farewell in the Lord.

CXXXIV. To the same.

^C Bodily distance does not sever those who are united according to the spirit ^D. Since this is so, my son, do not be pained that you do not see the Father with bodily eyes; but know that the unity of those whom affection according to Christ joins cannot be separated by any intervening walls. Yet do not despond in spirit, but rather, with the grace of the Holy Spirit cooperating, fulfill your ministry more fervently. By this you will provide great joy both to yourself and to us in our humility, and you will appear not to have a smaller portion than those who are present, but indeed a much greater one, inasmuch as you, by uplifting our own

^A spirit and bestowing favors, are united with us even more than those who converse with us.

CXXXV. To the Same.

Concerning the troublesome and burdensome matters that gather about you from every side, my son, you ought not to be consoled by letters, but, if it were possible, you should be visited; and the consolation which Christ our God imparts to us should be offered to you by word of mouth. But since this is impossible, we turn to the second best course and converse with you by letter. You write that the tribulations are many and that there is a great weight of evils, and that we, who do not go abroad, are often ignorant of these things—for this is what you say, even if your letter proves the contrary. We, indeed, my son, even if by the judgments, which the all-wise Dispenser of our life knows, it has not been willed that we should travel abroad to foreign parts and behold the misfortunes of others with our own eyes, yet we do not sleep in a corner, but are established in a fixed place, even if by nature we are as little suited as possible for understanding the affairs of outsiders; yet this place provides an abundance of opportunities to know foreigners through the thousand travelers who ^B converse with us every day. We made mention of this, lest you think that your tribulations are unknown to us.

Secondly, we write this to you: that we were not ignorant from the beginning that your leadership is not directed toward luxury, nor toward delights, nor toward worldly glory and vain honors, but toward toils, and sweats, and hardships. And these things, not as if you had forgotten, we told you before the laying on of our humble hands; but you professed that, with divine aid, every obstacle and every danger would be accounted by you as nothing. And thus we laid our sinful hand upon you, and by the power of the Holy Spirit, we placed you as an illuminator in the mystic portico and a savior of the word of life. Yet we recount these things not as if we were condemning you, nor as if we were not sympathizing with you in your pain, but because we know that you were eager from the start for the dangers undertaken for the sake of piety and the Gospel, and even now you preserve that eagerness, ^C no less than before, even if the weakness of the flesh is exposed. And it is no wonder; for the Lord Himself, our God and the power of the Father, who knows the nature which He fashioned, said to His disciples: "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak" (Matt. XXVI, 41). These things, then, have not been said, God forbid, for the sake of condemnation, but so that you may know that we have forgotten neither our own purpose nor your resolve. Those who cast their seeds into the field, my son, toil; and often, yes, very often, they break up the soil; yet the expectation of the harvest and of the fruits supports their labors and the blows of the plowshare. Those who cross the seas are sometimes exposed to deaths and the most grievous dangers, but by the hope of gain, they cast away ^D all the dangers of the sea from their memory and leave them behind their backs.

^A Since you have been established by divine grace to teach others, and especially since you have been nourished from childhood by such doctrines, there was no need for you to hear these things from another. But that we might not appear immovable toward what has been written, these things also have been written, and a few more will be added. Look toward the blessed heralds of the Gospel, to whose company you have been judged worthy to be counted, and contemplate their sufferings and their daily deaths, and the joy they felt in these things; then cease from lamenting and being disheartened, because human affairs do not always flow as we wish. Consider, or rather keep this always in your heart, that it is a grace and an honor from above to suffer for Christ. Take pride, along with the divine Apostle who said, "For it has been granted to you by God, that for Christ's sake you should suffer." Many desire to suffer what you suffer, and to be partakers of the affliction and the straits: but this was given to you by the good pleasure of Him who ordained all things before their beginning. Look to the grace, and not to the injury which the adversaries of grace bring upon you, whether they be demons, or men who assume the appearance of demons and become imitators of their malice. For what if someone, being appointed a commander by the king, should then find certain envious people rising up against him and intending to bring sorrows upon him—would he, on account of that one thing, forget the honor to which he was deemed worthy, and looking only at those who harass him, become dejected and grieved? ^B Or rather, bearing a noble spirit, will he not count the injury as nothing, and, considering the rank to which he was raised by the One who appointed him, show in every way an eagerness to be seen to be above the injury of those who oppose him? But let there be enough of such examples. You see what things await you here, prior to the crowns from above and the divine recompense: praise from the lips of all who know you, a good reputation among all who have not seen you but have marvelled at your virtue by report; and, to express it in one word, you are highly esteemed by all on account of your apostolic labors, your proclamations, and the apostolic lot. ^C These things concern the past life; but consider now the future, where there will be unceasing exultation: instead of the present tribulations, instead of the nakedness and the other miseries, you shall possess immense riches. And why do I say these things? You shall stand with the luminaries of the world, filled with divine light; for, having been transformed by these sufferings, you shall be seen resplendent with divine glory. What do you answer? Shall we still mourn and have the lot of those who despond? Or shall we cast away all dejection, and with the favor from above, establish ourselves above all those who grieve us? And how else should I have cause to hope? Unless you should deem as nonsense what I have just said, which would be unworthy of your discernment. ^D For this reason, I now cease from saying anything more to you about taking up the despondency that possesses you. We turn our speech to another subject, and as we exhort and encourage you, regarding the gentleness and kindness and the humility for Christ's sake that are inherent in you, now...

^A you should manifest these even more, so that the evil one may not be able to sow tares between your virtue and our most reverend son and your brother, the lord Euthymius, nor, as he is accustomed in his wily malice, having from the beginning cast enmity between God and his creation, may he secretly introduce anything that is an obstacle to the unity and love you have in the Lord. But as one who is truly a man of God, and knowing how to win everyone over, take this same mindset, so that you may win over both him and those with him, and not allow any pretext for disagreement and dissension to slip in from any direction; for otherwise the man is God-loving and a worker of virtue. And indeed, for this reason you must treat him with all reverence and honor; especially because before you, he was a herald of piety to this nation, and he himself cast the seeds of doctrine, and now he has been sent to you for this purpose, to be a fellow-worker, and, with God, to lighten the burden of your labors in the communion of spiritual work. Rejoice, therefore, at this, and praise God, rather than feeling troubled or suffering anything unworthy of love, especially that of the Spirit. ^B

I write these things, not that I expect such matters to befall you, but being wary of the wily ill-will of the evil one. For he cannot bear to look favorably upon what is good, but wages perpetual war against it—and this now even more, when he sees so much progress being made for the salvation of humanity, which he has never had his fill of casting into perdition from the beginning until now, nor has he ever satisfied his intent, nor will he ever put an end to this enmity. Once you know the artifices of this one, my son, and having been taught both by what we have written and by your own experience, you will see his machinations; and you will taste for yourself the honor reserved for you by God, while among men you will find equitable ^C judges of virtue and tireless zeal, and just rewarders, as is right and fitting.

CXXXVI. To Stephen, Michael, and Constantine, brothers.

To a man who reveres conscience, and especially divine conscience, trust is most easily granted even without an oath; for experience teaches that many who have given oaths have stood by them but little, and having betrayed trust, they have completely wiped away the faith of others. We, indeed, my son, judge you to be truthful, by whom we have never been deceived. For we know your character, and we place more trust in your words than in the assertions of most, even when they are brought forward with an oath. Therefore, if we are not deceived, we give thanks to God; but if the matter stands otherwise, let this be cast into pathless wastes, ^D and thus no one else will bear the blame, but it will be transferred to my own sins. Since, however, you mentioned peace, I say this—not to persuade you, nor anyone else who might be seen to embrace peace, but I speak it more openly to Him to whom all the secrets of the heart are manifest; for there is such a desire in me to see the Church of God enjoying peace, that if the desire...

might be satisfied, I would expose myself to the ultimate evils. ^A However, the peace which they inconsiderately seek is nothing other than the reception of those who are absent and the rejection of those who are present. Who, then, would call such a thing the union and prosperity of the Church of God? Indeed, I see no rupture more pernicious than that, nor any the outcome of which is more miserable. To you who are prudent, not only should the outward appearance be considered, as is the custom, but also those things which emanate from the outward appearance.

CXXXVII. To Ignatius, Metropolitan of Cyzicus.

We know your most perfect understanding—which, without our exhortation, is of its own accord moved to feel compassion for him who ruled the Church of Cyzicus before your Holiness. Nevertheless, because the man also thought to ask us to write to you so that his life might be unmolested by those who, on account of their innate human malice, delight in offending others, we ^B send these present letters, though, as we said above, you are already embracing him with your own kindness of your own free will. He also prays that through me an opportunity may be granted to him to return to the monastery where he lived when he was removed from the metropolis; he asks that those who are in charge of the monastery and its service may in no way harass him or provide an occasion for stumbling; he promises (and we, who know the benign nature of the man, believe it) that neither to you nor to those living in the monastery will any inconvenience arise through his fault; on the contrary, he promises that even greater ^C benefits for soul and body than those which they now enjoy will accrue to them.

CXXXVIII. To the same.

Thanksgiving has been rendered by us to holy God, as is the custom, for your salvation and preservation, our holy son, and we pray that you may continue to be kept under the divine wings, preserved untouched by every evil. But as for our own affairs, what shall I say? Only this I wish you to know: that we put our trust in the supernal goodness alone, which is able to cover the multitude of our sins, from which such a tempest of tribulations has been poured out upon us and upon the whole community—a tempest in which we live a life that is not life; we are burdened even while seeing the rays of the sun, and we would prefer to be counted among those who dwell ^D in the tombs than among those living under the sun. Such are our affairs. But may you, as I have already said, continue to be guarded over and protected from all malice by the divine favor.

CXXXIX. To the Prince of Princes.

Nothing is to be sought with more diligence, nor is anything more salutary for the whole life of men, than piety; for when this is practiced in the state, it is manifest that God is worshipped. But the worship of God provides all good and advantageous things, and drives away the presence of all that is disadvantageous. Thus, each person privately, and house, and city, and indeed even the nation, will live happily.

^A Since this is the case, very many lay claim to their own opinion as being pious, especially when they are mastered by a preconception; for preconception is a terrible thing, to hold onto a dogma deposited in the soul, even if it be among the most absurd and those that lead to perdition. For just as it is possible to see in cloths of any kind suitable for taking dye, that many of the colors that penetrate to the depths show themselves to be unwashable, and such cloths are torn asunder rather than casting off the dye, so too is it possible to see in human nature that many, having previously received a perverse opinion into their soul, do not wish to cast it off, nor to attain to a better frame of mind, but rather prefer ^B to end their life with that opinion. But this is the lot of those who are destitute of divine wisdom and who do not wish to test the better choice, but contend to remain in their own preconception, or who are completely ignorant of what they have decided to think. But as many as set great store by having a correct opinion about God, these, even if they have been preoccupied, do not persist in their ancient false opinion, nor do they love to fight in defense of deceit, but immediately, like those whose souls have been illuminated by the light of the word of piety, they have loved the guidance from thence, and leapt away from the mist that was until then obscuring them.

These things, our son, the letter says to you as a preface on account of the report of your apocrisiarii; for they say that upon the death of the catholicos ^C among you, you are thinking—as befits the faithful and like-minded friends of our great and God-crowned emperor, and as those eager to think the same as him in all things—to receive from this church here the man who is to be appointed as your high priest, and by the providence of God to acknowledge him as one of those who surround the holy altar with us. Since, therefore, this gift, along with the other grace bestowed upon you by God (for you know and understand of what great divine benefits you have partaken, of which this too is one, to receive such a resolve, namely to be united in all things with our God-protected emperor), has been granted, it remains for you to send to this place the man who, God consenting, ought to be instituted as your high priest, that he may receive the dogma of piety more accurately, and through as long a stay with us as shall be necessary, may be instructed both in the things ^D pertaining to piety and in those pertaining to ecclesiastical order, and thus, having been anointed by the laying on of hands, may return to your most splendid nobility and the fullness of your authority. For just as you are, by the profession of friendship, joined to our Christ-loving emperor and to the most holy Church of God among us, so it is necessary that you be joined also by the confession of the faith and by the frame of mind of the orthodox dogmas: and not as has existed until now, with such a great evil having somehow supervened, that we appear joined indeed in friendship, but separated by the communion of the faith. Concerning these matters, I say, to our most holy patriarch Photius not

^A a small contest has been undertaken, both by words and also by the sending of men, even if the varied turns of events hindered his eagerness from reaching the end; or perhaps, as I said before, it was reserved for these days known to God alone, so that you might be demonstrated to be honored by God also with this gift.

Therefore, as was said a little before, our most desired son, having been established by God in such an intention, do not delay to send him whom your Excellence and the leaders of your Church have testified to be worthy to be advanced to such an archiepiscopate, so that it may be granted both to him to receive those things of which it is not right that he should be known to be destitute, and to you, with God’s help, to say that through his episcopal oversight that nearness to God has been brought about—for nothing is more ^B near to Divinity than piety—and also that unity and concord with our high and great emperor is secured, just as in submission and rank, so also in the harmony of pious dogmas. You certainly do not doubt that the dissonance regarding the faith within the Church of the Armenians, up to the present day, stands alien to our holy Church of God, to the orthodox preaching, and to the apostolic and divine teaching. If, therefore, there is any care in your wisdom for your own unity with us and that of your people, and for harmony in all things, do not act otherwise, nor delay sending him who ought to assume the title of your pontiff by the suffrage of the most holy Spirit and adorn your holy Church. We pray that you fare well in the Lord, kept safe and superior to every injury and aggression that comes from visible and invisible enemies. ^C

CXL. To Michael, patrician and duke of Thessalonica.

We trust, most beloved son, that in the matter which incited us to write to you, we have obtained from your soul that which will neither move the anger of God, nor sadden our humility, nor lead the man about whom we are writing to an unjust condemnation. For we know the most perfect wisdom that you possess by the grace of God in all things, for which you have appeared glorious in the present life, and by which you will obtain—as we pray—not only the glory that smiles for a time, but also that which gladdens you eternally. Learn, therefore, the matter, and make known to us—having the bond of ^D the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—all that, as your true conscience testifies, you know about the man, and let it contain nothing out of favor or opposition. Some claim to have heard from your own tongue concerning Paul, the most pious monk and presbyter, that after he had taken up the monastic life, he was caught in commerce with the woman formerly known to him, and that he did not sincerely maintain the separation made from her, nor did he stand by the promises he made to God. These things having reached our ears

as was to be expected, they caused us grief and distress, especially since the man, having provided testimony from other persons, was deemed worthy of the priesthood and is numbered among those ministering at the holy altar, and aspires even to a higher ministry. You already have our opinion of the man clearly expressed. But you must write to us about those things concerning which you are going to answer before the fearful judgment seat of Christ, when we shall all stand before Him naked, in the presence of the entire angelic order and the human gathering. As for the rest, may the Lord keep you in health, beyond every assault, both invisible and visible. ^A

CXLI. To the Abbot of the Sun Altars.

Although the evil report, long since divulged by letters regarding the malice of the wicked demon against you, my holy son, has not lightly struck our soul, yet, led by better hope, we rejected the report into the realm of falsehood and found consolation for our pain, waiting from day to day until your health should be confirmed to us. But what now? The letters have arrived, increasing the pain, clearly teaching those things which hitherto we had hoped and prayed were far from the truth. In what state we were as we read the letter, and what a wound we received deep in our very bowels, no words are sufficient to represent; but He who created and knows hearts, He sees both the wound and the pain of the heart, for which we can find no other consolation than this alone: that, by bearing well the conspiracy of the evil demon against you, there will be stored up for you much future ease and rest in place of your current pains and the resulting distress. ^C For the tempter of the human race has from the beginning been plotting against the servants of God, and sometimes he takes as collaborators those whom he finds running alongside his own wickedness. And through them, sometimes bringing persecutions, sometimes other afflictions upon those who live in a manner pleasing to God, he makes a struggle to hinder their blessed life. But now, even without the involvement of men conspiring with him, through his own assault—at times covertly, at times openly—he shows the war, which he has now waged against your virtue. But he has inflicted a wound which, if God wills, will either eventually pass into a scar, or by the judgments He knows, will remain for the profit and benefit of the one bearing the wound, but at all events, not long after, it will be stripped away from this corruptible body when it receives the God-like incorruption in the resurrection of the just. But that evildoer, through your patience, by which all men glorify God, will be wounded forever, bearing his pains alone, and will be unable to find any relief for his agony. Look, my son, to those who do battle on this earth, how many and how great the blows they receive in their members from the enemy; yet brave men do not lose heart, but rather take courage, and show to all the wounds inflicted by their enemies. Having been chosen for the heavenly militia, if you have been struck by the adversary, you will gain reputation from your hardships. Therefore, be of strong spirit, and do not because of the wound^D

^A fall into despondency. We write these things not that we may stir you up while despondent, but knowing that by divine grace you bear what has happened bravely, and as if we are together with you, mocking the apparent malice of the enemy. May the holy God grant that his wicked energy even now be put to shame, and in the future, being put to shame by divine power and lamenting his own confusion, he stay driven away from all our life.

CXLII. To Anthony, Metropolitan of Sardis

^B We have grieved not a little and have been torn in soul at the rumors reaching us concerning your holiness (for reports were arriving one after another that you were being harshly constrained by illness). Grieving greatly therefore at these things, we gave thanks to God through our common son Sabas, when we learned that you had been freed from the disease and restored to health by divine clemency. May supreme kindness add this, we pray, that the tribulations of this time be not mixed with your holy life; for this contributes to the benefit of those you shepherd, to our own joy, and to the glory of God; for when men are taught the rules of living piously and in a manner pleasing to God, truly God is glorified through your reverence. I will add one thing: if possible, do not delay in visiting us, ^C so that we may see one another, and enjoy both fellowship and conversation before our miserable life, under the pressure of the afflictions and hardships that surround us, gives way.

CXLIII. To Ignatius, Magister, living the monastic life in the Great Field

We know your godly virtue, which ponders divine things and loathes human wickedness; and for this reason, we offer the greatest gratitude for the letter you wrote concerning the transgression of the exarch. However, having brought him face to face, and seeing him as if he were shameless (for it is a mark of a great conscience to confess one's own sin), we judged that his own insistence—that he knows nothing of what is said about him—must be put to shame by ^D even stronger proofs. Therefore, even if we are convinced by your words—for how could we not be convinced by a man who, by the grace of God and his own virtues, has ascended to the highest honors, and among monks obtains that testimony of piety which is fitting for the servants of God to possess?—yet, that there may seem, as we said, no room left for contradiction, we now postpone the judgment concerning him while we investigate (for wickedness will not always remain hidden), and investigate more diligently, so that, with his own sin brought to light from every side before his very face, he may receive the condemnation, and whether he wishes it or not, he may himself appear to be in agreement with the sentence.

CXLIV. To Nicholas, Duke of Longobardia.

^A We render thanks—my son—to God for the power granted to you against the enemies of His glory; and we render thanks the more because the hopes of us humble ones have not been rendered void. For we foresaw beforehand, as it were, what excellent deeds your actions would be; and for this reason we compelled you, even against your will and though you were reluctant, to go to that region—once wretched, but now, by the grace of God, fortunate—intending that you should perform other [great] deeds. In this matter we never wavered, but firmly hoped for the honors and rewards which God knew and which my humble soul contemplated. But since, by inscrutable judgments, things have turned out otherwise, what else can we bestow ^B than our humble prayers? We pray, therefore, that divine aid may never depart from you, and that the brightness which illuminates the whole life of men may never fail, but may exalt your name and your race, and that in addition to this you may also attain to eternal and inextinguishable brightness.

CXLV. To our beloved, most esteemed spiritual son, the illustrious Prince of Amalfi.

Your singular love for us, and your fervent zeal for the Church which has been entrusted to us—unworthy though we be—by God, had been heralded beforehand by rumor, and now your own letters have most lovingly conveyed it to us. We owe you much, therefore, in this regard, and we can never repay you except by our prayers, in which we ask all good things for you from God. For whatever our own ^C care might be able to watch over, or our own efforts might ever be able to achieve, it is very little indeed, and already obligated to you on account of your fine benefits toward us. We have accomplished your business concerning the redemption of captives, in part; that it be completed in full, given the difficulty of current affairs and the times, was not entirely possible. The hand of the Lord, we hope, will soon be present to promote these noble efforts of yours: which neither the cruelty of the Agarenes, nor any other force at all, can successfully oppose. In the way that you are doing, apply yourself diligently to this work, and spend upon it the pound of gold which we are sending to you. By a certain intuition, my soul presages that God will soon provide us the occasion, once the brothers have been liberated, to render Him the highest thanks. May Christ keep you in safety, and all yours, and protect you ^D from the visible and invisible enemy.

CXLVI. To Constantine, Protasikretis.

I write simply to a man of keen intellect and...

^A a heart that perceives the pain of the soul. I have heard, after the king’s departure from us, that the archbishop ordained by our humility (I mean the one of Neapolis) has been driven out by you, and that another, having been marked and sent there by him, has also been cast out. The same man has fled to us, the lowly, the greatest of all sinners; yet, by whatever judgments Christ, who has joined me to this Church, has known—judgments not unknown to you—He has joined us to that Church and given us the rudder. See what you are doing! You see that I write simply: I am innocent of your eternal condemnation, yet I submit him to the eternal judgment as a guilty party. For although I am a sinner, I nevertheless walk as a pontiff of Christ’s Church, and I have been joined to it not by force, not by my own circuits, not by the strivings of men, but by those reasons ^B known to Him who poured out His holy blood for it. With that indissoluble bond we shall bind the guilty; they shall stand before the fearful tribunal, and I with them, and then shall be made known before every creature both the mind, and the thoughts, and the friendships, and the discord, when every mouth shall be stopped and each one shall receive the recompense for his own works.

CXLVII. To an Unknown Person.

Even if the present occasion had not been given, the fame of your reverence reaching our ears would have made your conversation desirable, O man of God. But since the present occasion has also come about—an occasion that is indeed necessary—we indulge our desire; for it is not possible to converse with you otherwise than through letters. Good and most pleasing to God is the work that this God-loving man who brings you this letter has devised and accomplished; for he has taken up the cross of Christ and abandoned the world, devoted solely to virtue. ^C And just as you yourself have become for him a guide upon the road to salvation from the beginning even until this day, so, being helped by you, he will adhere entirely to your reverence, and will receive nothing unless you command it, counting himself happy to have gained a teacher for his spiritual struggles such as he desired. For one cannot attain salvation because of the envy of the devil, who rages against our salvation, stirs up difficulties, and hinders progress on the path of virtues. In the place where he was and where he held authority, he persevered with thanksgiving and faithfulness toward God the Savior; once you have this disciple with you, teach him what is fitting. For it is known to us that ^D instead of tranquility and a safe harbor, tempests and whirlwinds arise against him, whether stirred up by men who do not know how to live peaceably, or by the evil demon; truly, they attempt to bring harm both to themselves and to him. What is to be done? Must we stubbornly resist? But the command is not mine, but the Lord’s: "If they persecute you in this city, flee into another" (Matt. x. 23). This man, however, as he says, is experiencing persecution from those who do not love peace, and persecu-

him out; yet, since he is driven out, he has a necessity, even if he does not wish it, to shift to another place. Grant him, therefore, your prayers as a provision for his journey, and send him off with your blessing, so that he himself may continue in peace here and live in a manner pleasing to God. For since a place has been found where he will have the peace he seeks, those who are persecuting him, being relieved of what they consider to be a burden, will no longer have as a pretext for their own disorder the presence and residence of the man—whom they deem troublesome—among them.

CXLVIII. To Euthymius the Monk.

The love that is in the Spirit knows no distance; for those who are joined by this bond, even if place separates them, remain united and enjoy that blessed union. And we ourselves, from the time we were united with your holiness in the Holy Spirit, are all the more connected ^B the greater the distance between our persons is. For relationships between bodies have their subsistence from visible characteristics—when these are dissolved, the relationship itself is quickly dissolved. But the relationship of the spirit, far from despairing or diminishing due to absence, is connected all the more. Furthermore, we pray to God that both the opportunity to live together and to converse with one another face to face may be granted to us. For so, whether we are separated or united, God will be glorified, who joined us together with the bond of the Spirit. Farewell. We, for our part, never cease to pray regarding earthly matters; do you, on your part, pour out prayers for our humility.

CXLIX. To the Duke of the Thracians.

What we urge upon you in these letters, my son, we know you would have done even without our reminder. For your love of God does not permit the weaker among your subjects to be afflicted with insults or with the heavy hand of those who oppress them, knowing that you were raised by God to this position and appointed to rule over others, so that you might restrain those who wish to do injustice and show those ready to be exhausted by poverty to be delivered from the violence of others by your help. We know that you both contemplate these things ^C and bring your contemplation into action, even if no one is writing or offering encouragement. However, since the one bearing this letter is a person known to us and has pleaded much that he might be presented to your high excellence with our letters, listening to his request, we have provided the letter. We commend him to you by our letter, and at the same time we beseech you to show him your protection, which all who are covered by your wings enjoy, remaining safe from insult by those who find pleasure and luxury in the miseries of the oppressed. May the Lord keep you healthy, prospering in your affairs, walking through life evenly, and remaining untouched by the stings of envy.

CL. To Philotheus the Patrician.

Members of the clergy of the metropolitan church of Nicaea have fled to our humility, and without ^D words

my son, simply by their very appearance, they manifest the confusion and pain of their soul. But when they began to speak, the disposition of their words was so pathetic that it stirred our own soul to the same confusion and pain, not to say anguish. And how, my son, could I not be moved when the ministers of the sanctuary—I mean priests and deacons, and whatever we may be and by whatever sins we are held—are enrolled for secular military service? Spare, O Lord, your holy sanctuary, and do not because of our sins bring us to nothing. ^B Hearing these things, my son, I was so moved and dismayed that my hand refused the office of writing, and I did nothing else but bewail my own miserable life, shedding tears and groaning over the present time, which is full of disorders. But because the lamentations of the clerics did not cease, late and with difficulty, I recovered my composure; then I thought it fitting to write to your excellence, to spare, if possible, the clerics or rather the divine glory. For although God hears the honor offered by hymns unceasingly in the heavens, nevertheless He wills that men on earth should pay Him the same. For if others, and not those who encompass the holy altar, were the cause, the matter would be less serious; for whatever has been consecrated may not be transferred to profane use. ^C But when those who have been deemed worthy to carry the holy things are dragged off for military duties, what is one to say? Consider, my son, that neither a garment, nor silver, nor copper, nor even a stone set apart for the temple of God may be made common, nor is he who dares these things free from condemnation. If then it is so, as indeed it is, I leave it to your prudence, which is a very great grace of God, to judge what is now happening. I wished to extend the letter and demonstrate through more points the absurdity of the matter and our own grief. ^D But these things that have been said are sufficient for your virtue, which, even if no one else speaks, is able by itself both to understand and to instruct others concerning this. This only I add, that from the beginning a privilege was given by those who adorned piety to the metropolitan see, for the sake of the holy synods convened there. And consider how much time has passed; for since the authority of the scepters was subjected to Christ, the King and God, this was granted, and may it not now be trampled upon and despised. For it is not worthy, neither for the honor of those who command nor of those who fulfill the command. For the rest, may the Lord keep you in health, pleasing Him in all things and deemed worthy of acceptance from Him.

CLI. To Gregory, Bishop of Ephesus.

I do not know what I shall say concerning the perpetual torments of our heart. For there is not a day that does not bring new sorrows and again bind us, so that I believe that in me is fulfilled

^A that saying which was spoken: “Evils are always heaped upon evils.” And on every side my life is beset: the evil has not yet departed, and already another worse one stands by. I know not how I shall speak of these things, if indeed one should use accustomed and human forms of speech; yet this I do know, that our sins are the cause of such an onslaught of hardships. For that these things which no other person would dare to predict should happen, should indeed befall us—from what other source, if not from the cause I have mentioned, does it take its genesis? Perhaps your soul is troubled, most holy son of ours, as though our pain comes upon you cloaked in shadow. Therefore, learn the matter more clearly. The Metropolitan of Dyrrachium, having arrived here, I know not what came over him, chose to separate himself from the fullness ^B of the Church. We have tried very often to win him back from this absurd purpose with as many exhortations as can proceed from our humble lips, but we have been seen to be singing to the deaf in vain. For this reason, we have judged it good that he should be sent to your discernment, hoping that in this way his disobedience might be turned into compliance. At the same time, we have also reflected that, remaining there and as one may conjecture, seeing daily those who have deserted from the Church, he will return to the bosom of the Church with greater difficulty. But if he is sent to you, should he have any new cause for seceding from the Church, he will the more easily depart from it, when, recognizing the virtues of your bishopric, he remembers the long-standing familiarity and the benefits which you have showered upon him; otherwise, he will go to the noose of Judas, and by the worst example given by his associates, he will boast evilly of having deserted the Church.

CLII. To the Uncertain.

I write nothing else to you, my son—you who are led by your own native wit toward every good and God-pleasing thing—save that we commend the bearers of this letter, and make it known to you that they are assigned to the great Church of God for the service established from the beginning—we mean the contribution of cabbage. It is for your wise judgment, therefore, having learned this, to preserve them free from any other public requirement or distress. For it is impossible, as you yourself well know, for them to be subject to the public liturgies and at the same time to perform the contribution assigned to them from the beginning ^C in the Church. As for the rest, may the Lord preserve you in health, my son, under the shadow of his wings, as you traverse the uneven and toilsome way of life.

CLIII. To Theodosius the Monk and Cubicularius.

We had hoped for other things concerning the monks than what has now been made known to us through your letter. For we expected that they, having enjoyed no small benefit through your reverence, would not only never forget your goodness in such a short time, but would spend their whole lives in gratitude, and would strive to requite their benefactor with services as best they can. But now, what shall I say? For I am overcome by grief ^D and will cry out with the Prophet: “Save me, O Lord, for the holy man has failed, for truths have…”

and I cry out with the Prophet: "Save me, O Lord, for the holy man has failed, for truths have been diminished from among the sons of men, and there is no one doing kindness; there is not so much as one." ^A But those men, as regards their ingratitude, perhaps even now will experience the gain; but certainly, if not now, in the world to come they shall be numbered among the ungrateful. But you, O man of God, do not be indolent, nor let your lofty mind be submerged by this passion, looking instead toward the divine help, which never abandons those who look to it. But pray for those who have acted ungratefully, feeling pity for their wickedness, as you are a man of God; and lift yourself up in the thought that relies on the better hopes; for certainly, with divine favor, the dissolution of those things which presently cause grief will come from God, who never brings shame upon His own servants. Regarding your visit, that it has not even yet taken place, know that we are grieved on your account. For I imagine you have not forgotten that, on your leaving, I told you that the Nativity of Christ our God would not be celebrated unless you were present. Since this did not happen, beware lest what you promise anew should prove false! But if it be God's good pleasure that we should embrace one another in this present life, come to celebrate the feast of Palms with us. Regarding what the letter mentions about the lawsuit of the monks, those with whom they have the dispute must be present; for then we shall either handle the matter ourselves or bring it to the royal ears. Thus, in truth, all things will be settled more easily.

CLIV. To Gregory, Bishop of Ephesus

^C What we wrote before concerning the plot contrived by my sins (for why should I blame others when the true cause is patent to us?) the evil did not proceed further than that day, God’s goodness having so disposed it, and it had no effect. Now, if anything better must be said about human life, we fluctuate between better things, but in the future we see nothing but what is uncertain and vain. One thing we ask, even if in vain: that through your holy prayers my soul may sustain no loss. Let other matters be as they may; when God permits, we do not concern ourselves with them. May Christ our God preserve your health: and do you remember our humility in your holy prayers.

CLV. To an Unknown Person

^D Blessed be God who has dissipated the cloud of our sorrow on your account, O man of God. For even before your letter, the sad news of your illness reached our ears, on account of which our soul was also held in the cloud of despondency. But thanks be to the holy God, who has now through the arrival of your letter allowed us to learn better news, and has delivered us from the grief for you; this, then, regarding the illness that overtook you. But regarding the chamberlain, let your holiness bear no grief. For even if a royal order has issued for the expulsion of certain chamberlains, nothing of this kind is in our decree, nor shall it be decreed: for they remain in their own dignity and office...

and shall not be deprived of their personal audience before us; so that if, for the sake of this, any sorrow has vexed your soul, put it away, and by God’s favor, let the tidings of the perfect removal of your infirmity arrive. ^B

CLVI. To the Roman Emperor.

Lord and son, glorified by God, truly the separation from us has been a great and bitter wound, bringing pain. Yet let us consider that here, as in all other things, God has shown Himself our benefactor. For if it was necessary, as I have said, that this should happen, upon whom was the pain of separation more fittingly to be laid? Upon you, who are more capable of bearing the agony, or upon her, who by reason of feminine frailty would have utterly collapsed, and—God forbid that it should happen—might have fallen into despair or, under the weight of such pain, been driven by passion into blasphemous thoughts and words? God, the Creator and Matchmaker, joined her to you. Let us give thanks for the blessings we have enjoyed according to His judgment; He cares for our life and the life of all who believe in Him, among whom you, Lord, are counted; He directs affairs for our benefit. Let us therefore cast aside wicked desires and sadness, lest we be condemned for our complaints against the divine judgment. What the blessed prophet David said regarding his son, you well know, and it seems redundant for us to write of it; but I shall cite the magnanimity of certain men of old on account of the similarity.

In the Roman empire, before Christ our God had subjected the Roman scepters to His own power, there lived a certain Aemilius—if you wish to know the man’s name and virtue. When his two sons died on the same day, he did not allow his soul to be broken by grief, nor did he suffer anything of the sort that those who lacerate themselves over the dead usually experience. What, then, did he do? "I give thanks," he said, "that for as long as God willed that they should live, I rejoiced in the fact that they were born of my seed. But I shall not now show myself ungrateful because He has decreed that they should die." There was another illustrious man among the Greeks whose son, dwelling in another region, was cut down by the sickle of death like a flower. Certain men came with what they thought was a sad announcement; when the magnanimous father heard it, he did nothing unworthy of his own virtue: he did not beat his breast, he shed no tears, but said to the messengers: "I knew, my friends, that I had begotten a mortal."

Thus you, too, Lord, will stand firm in the understanding that God has given you, nor will you commit anything unworthy of your virtue; for you knew, when you were joined to her, that you were being joined to a mortal; for you rejoiced greatly in your love for her. Do not, therefore, bear yourself now as one who has suffered injustice from God, sad and

^A downcast. For those who are caught up in sadness and gloominess invariably suffer such things by reason of some losses and harms. Is it then a fearful thing, my master and beloved son, to think that we have been harmed by God and have sustained some injury from Him, who glorified you, and raised you to the height of the kingdom, and established you as lord and master of His holy inheritance? Do not, I beseech you, lament any longer, do not let us mourn, do not let us carry about this sadness; but rather let us give thanks and glorify God, as in all other things, so also in this, who from the beginning until this present day has brightened and benefited your life; and we still have confidence in His goodness that He will increase His benefits, if we strive to please Him and to do what is for our healing according to our power. And may Christ our God place us above this grief also, and above all the mournful things which He knows to accompany this painful life, and grant us the inheritance of eternal joy and radiance. ^B

CLVII. To Demetrius of Cyzicus.

As was fitting for us, having heard of the preservation of our beloved son, due thanks were rendered to God. We pray that he may still be kept safe and unharmed from every affliction, and that your virtue may in no way be deterred from performing its own proper duties, but that it may always exist for both the divine pleasure and the unimpeded discipline of the flock. As for what you wrote concerning the clerics—who, I do not know if I should say out of ignorance or malice, have not wished to appear at the appointed judgment—so that we may not seem to be acting against their wrongdoing as if with some bitterness, it is well to wait a little and urge them, as was decreed from the beginning, to arrive at the place and submit to the righteous word. But if they do not wish to, but still persist in their own perversity, then what you requested shall be done, and a letter will be sent by us, so that even in their absence justice may attain its end concerning what has been judged. As for us, brother and most beloved and loving son, the painful things arising from old age and infirmity weigh upon us, so that none are lighter, lest I say rather that they press heavily. But the other things which, on account of our sins, are added to consume this wretched life—how else shall I say it except as a chastisement from God, I do not know, unless the God who appointed us to this task [has allowed it] through judgments known to Him, yet at the same time He urges us to endure the company of the living. I did not wish, therefore, to enter, but rather to go further and depart to the island. But I was detained from my impulse, not being able to reject the request of my brother and beloved son ^C for a second exercise of my will. We shall come, therefore, as you have written, at once to touch [base] and, God granting, as we find consolation in our common conversation, and if there is need to deliberate about the severity of matters, I shall deliberate with you, who esteem nothing greater than, with God as guide, to think upon honorable things. ^D

CLVIII. To Constantine, Metropolitan of Laodicea.

We have saddened your Reverence, not having this as our intention—far be it—nor having been incited by anyone else from elsewhere; do not think this, my son, but rather, believe me, my son, or rather, consider yourself and us...

being delivered from sadness by those who wander here and there prattling against your holiness, and who were troubling the ears of many. Therefore, your virtue ought not to be pained by this. For what grievous thing has happened? For by the grace of God, their prattling did not cast any mark of shame upon your virtue, but rather they themselves were seen to be condemned, and suffering something similar to what ^A one can often see in dogs, which, unable to catch the one throwing projectiles, bite the stones thrown at them. Thus, therefore, they too, transferring the cause to others, were proved to be barking in vain and to no purpose against your perfection; so that if, being human, you have until now felt pain in your soul, discard the passion, if you possess any love for us and reason, for the sake of not grieving our soul. And again, I say, do not entertain this suspicion; we were not prompted to this matter by ourselves nor by anyone else, but rather we wished to put an end to the clamors of those senseless clerics, lest by going about here and there ^B they might snatch away those who perhaps do not know your virtue into opinions unworthy and unbecoming of your holiness. For the rest, may you be strong for us, and as a man of God and high priest, be superior to the small-mindedness of the crowd.

CLIX. To the Same.

Regarding your judgment concerning the priest who, moved by his own folly, behaved insolently against his own high priest, since there is no contradiction regarding the fact (for it is confirmed by the power of the canons), we wish to add this one thing: that it is permitted for us to foster a somewhat kinder thought and to show some compassion toward the imprudent one, and to restore him again to his own rank. For those sins are altogether unforgivable which bring a mark of ^C impiety upon the holy sanctuary. But if we desire to forgive acts that, due to the small-mindedness of those who err, concern only us, I think that the divine benevolence will not be angry with us. For why, is He not the One who prefers mercy to every sacrifice, saying: "I desire mercy and not sacrifice"? This command seems to me to be excellently adapted to that disorderly man, and for mercy to come forth from your own soul. I agree with these things; for there will be none, unless one who shuts his own inner parts entirely against mercy, who would refuse aid to a needy neighbor.

CLX. Epistle to Gregory, Bishop of Ephesus.

Afflictions, my ^D spiritual son, by which the Church of God is pressed, we knew not without pain of soul even before we learned of it from your letters; and for us who often lament the case and the matter, the only probable cause that presents itself is the fragility of public affairs. As for the rest, the things that have been carried about by rumors and have troubled your soul have in them something of the true and something of the false, as is wont to happen in human affairs. Nevertheless, in these…

^A times, nothing has approached our misery more sorely than the stratagem of the evil one which has been broken up, by which he contrived to throw both the affairs of the empire and those of the Church into confusion, his wicked machinations having been revealed and undone by divine intervention. These things we make known to you by this letter, and may you remain in good health, praying for our humility.

CLXI. To the Duke of the Peloponnese

CLXII. To George, Despot of Abasgia

preserving the friendship, guard also with yourself the eagerness for our alliance, and if need calls for it, you will surely, as a grateful friend, perform what is requested, so that in this, too, your virtue and the unalloyed nature of your friendship may shine forth. ^A

CLXIII. To Antiochus the monk. We are writing nothing else regarding the cubiculary who carries this letter to your piety, except to give him the opportunity of refuting the accusations, which is what the order of justice and your virtue also demand. Do not, therefore, inflict upon him injury or any more disgraceful act; for this would be worthy neither of your virtue nor of the man's condition. The monk and cubiculary is not from yesterday, but from long ago, and from the beginning he has exercised other ministries to which those distinguished by their virtues are accustomed to be appointed. If, therefore, he has committed any human error and a just sentence has been passed, let him suffer the penalty imposed by the judgment, and if he has taken anything, he shall surely restore it. But do not inflict upon him other punishments and insults, such as your piety has often shown to the confusion of some. For these would be superfluous, unworthy of your intelligence, and in no way adapted to the man. If you have any care for your own honor and for the man who without injury carries the present letter, and for our exhortation, you will comply with our letters. If, therefore, you care for your own orderliness and for the uninsulted standing before you of the one who carries this letter, add also our exhortation, and follow what has been written. ^B

POEM OF NICHOLAS, THE MOST HOLY PATRIARCH OF CONSTANTINOPLE, TO THE PROTOS OF THE HOLY MOUNTAIN, AS A TYPIKON IN VERSE.

1. You have often urged and pressed me, child, or rather you have entreated and requested me many times to write for you a brief and concise little scroll, through which you might be able to learn what you ought to do, and how you shall well display your life until the end, so that you may also attain the standing at the right hand. But considering the matter to be beyond my strength, and not only for me, who am ignorant of speech and lacking in action and ^C contemplation, but even for those who possess grammar and much ex-

^Aperience of letters, and who are well-versed in all that is good and every theoretical study, and who perform the incessant work of writing such things. And for this reason I was endeavouring to cast off from myself this burden, as has been said, being unable to bear it. Thus, therefore, I shall now begin this topic, calling upon, as a help to my weakness or rather to my ignorance and much rustic awkwardness, the Word of God the Father, my Master Christ, and likewise the Theotokos, the Lady Mary, and all the saints as intercessors, taking my beginning from whence it is right to begin.

β. Every Christian ought to have as his foundation a faith that is unadulterated, held from a pure heart, and love towards God with all his strength, with all his mind, and with all his soul; likewise, he ought to have love for his neighbor as for himself. ^B "In these commandments," as the Master said, "hang all the law and all the prophets." "You shall not kill; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not bear false witness; but neither shall you swear falsely; instead you shall swear truly, rendering to the Lord your God your oaths; neither shall you steal, nor at all simply commit fornication." These things the ancient law commands and writes.

γ. But Christ, the Master of all, the Lord of the Old and New Testaments, teaches us to have a greater precision, [bidding us] not to swear truly or to say any oath. But let our word be only "Yes, yes," and "No, no"; for whatever is more than these is of the devil. For the law corrected the end of actions, but our Saviour Christ [corrects] the beginnings even more. "For he who looked upon a woman to lust after her has already committed adultery with her in his heart." And he teaches not to resist the evil one at all; but if someone should force you to go one mile, to go two with him; not to contradict at all; to the one who strikes the right cheek ^C in anger, to offer the other meekly and gently; and simply, if each one should suffer something from his neighbor, to endure insults and blows together courageously; and to him who wishes to go to law and take your tunic, the Master commands to give the cloak as well; and if someone suffers some evil from his neighbor, and then becomes angry at him, he is angered at him in vain. He commands to give without hesitation to him who asks of you; and not to turn away someone who wishes to borrow. He commands us to love our enemies as our friends, and to pray for all those who treat us spitefully; to bless those who curse, and to do good to those who hate us. And again, he teaches us concerning prayer, that we should not pray like the hypocrites, nor perform our fast with hypocrisy, nor becoming gloomy and pulling our faces, in order that we might not store up treasures for ourselves on earth. And the tenth commandment stands thus: He said not to judge anyone, so that we should not be judged. Then, to one who wishes to reach perfection, he teaches to sell ^D all that he possesses, and with all zeal to give to the poor; and from that point on to possess…

^A a treasure in heaven and glory, and thus to take up the cross and follow Him. And these things are what the Lord said in the Gospels.

4. The divine Apostle and great herald Paul taught what a true and faithful Christian is in all things, as one having the all-holy Spirit dwelling within him, truly crying out the following: "The fruit of the Spirit is first love, joy, peace with them, and long-suffering, likewise kindness and goodness, meekness, true faith, and self-control in all things." And elsewhere he says again: "Brothers, do not be deceived: neither adulterers, nor fornicators, nor men who lie with males, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor the effeminate, nor the unjust, will inherit the kingdom of God."

5. But before these and all other things, there is the fearful profession ^B of divine baptism, for which we, both small and great, are to render an account in the world to come. For we all renounce the devil, and all his works, and all his service, and all his pomp, with a threefold confession. And indeed, the spiritual passions are enumerated thus: first pride, envy together with hatred, irrational anger, and along with these, jealousy, illicit desire, wrath, rage, improper thoughts, reviling, condemnation, zeal, covetousness, theft, drunkenness, rapacity, and all sloth. These are the spiritual works of the devil. Likewise, the carnal ones are enumerated thus: effeminacy, fornication and adultery along with these, the insane lust for men and for boys, triple bestiality and fowling, and the pursuits of every impurity. The ^C worship of Satan, so to speak, is this: to believe in divinations, to run to magi, to summon astrologers and necromancers, to accept amulets and phylacteries, to seek out prophets, and barley-diviners, those who have demons, and augurs, and to permit every practice of pagans and infidels; all these constitute the worship of the devil. It remains, therefore, to say what the pomp of Satan is. Theatrical tragedies and every other instrument of luxury, the contests of bulls and of slaves, and horse races; these we have renounced in the divine laver, and with them Satan as the teacher of these things, and we have been joined to Christ, to believe in Him rightly, ^D and to keep the commandments of God and Savior, which He taught while living with His own apostles, to abhor evils indeed as works of the devil, and to adhere to good things as commands of the Lord. What more is there to say? To this condition of life divinely established, we are all bound to render an account, small and great, bishops and kings, monks and the laity, nobles and the poor, and the whole multitude of the faithful. And these things which I have written are not proper to monks alone, but to all the faithful and to the flock of Christ.

^A

6. But, as I said, the monk’s way of life is different, since these men have renounced the whole world, and they possess a fear-inspiring and great strictness. For beyond the commandments written from above, a greater perfection is required of them: total poverty, absolute virginity, the moderation of passions and of foods alike; to bridle the senses—to do no evil in sight, smell, touch, hearing, and taste; unceasing psalmody, much wakefulness, sleeping on the ground, dry-eating, and remaining unwashed. The canon forbids monks entirely from living with women or even having any friendship with them at all, much less frequenting them, or traveling with them, or introducing boys among them, or associating one-on-one. To contradict, to rail against, or to judge any of the faithful at all is forbidden to all ^B—how much more so to these? Swearing or committing perjury is completely forbidden. A monk must not be a lover of money or a lover of self. But why should I waste time in digressions? If you desire to attain the kingdom of heaven, abstain from all evils and cleave to all good things. For it is truly difficult or impossible for one who is a lover of pleasure or glory to attain the true eternal life.

7. And I have written to you these few things out of many. For you know well my clownishness. For I am pressed again toward another topic, to declare obscurely how you ought to live regarding prayer, temperance, and true fasting, and also concerning diet—I mean for the whole of time—having made the beginning of my discourse at the start of the required course; ^C whence you must also take care in your fasting. And I do not speak of the fasting of the two days, Wednesday and Friday, as the Fathers used to say, to abstain from fish, oil, and wine, breaking the dry-fast once at the ninth hour; but you, as a weakling, shall use a little wine. If, however, you can abstain even from this usage, you shall obtain greater benefit by fulfilling the commandment. For the divine apostles in these days, and the God-bearing Fathers after them, require a fear-inspiring and great strictness: to be nourished on bread alone, and salt, and vegetables, and similarly for drink to have only water, unless someone on account of weakness is unable, using a little wine because of the infirmity. Regarding the rest, as I have written, abstain altogether, ^D unless some weakness or cause should arise—not, however, just any cause at all, but one that is absolutely necessary. And I have written these things simply regarding the whole of time. But this strictness of fasts that I write of was not written for us monks alone, but for all the faithful and for the lot of Christ. But for us monks, the holy Fathers prescribe that we have one meal daily, and not to fast on the Sabbath and on the Lord’s Day at all. Now, therefore, I will begin to write here again.

8. The feasts which we call Despotic, all of us break in all points for food and drink. And let there be set forth first the Nativity of the Virgin and truly Mother of God, the all-pure Lady; likewise...

her entry into the temple of the Lord; and then ^A the Nativity of my Master according to the flesh; again His baptism for the sake of us who were corrupted, which He desired to renew in the streams of the Jordan; and His entry into the holy temple, which we all call the Meeting of the Lord. Add to these the illumination of the countenance on Tabor: for thus we speak of Christ’s divine Transfiguration. There is also the Dormition of the immaculate Mother of God according to the flesh, her glorious and strange migration, before which a fast is canonically celebrated. The all-venerable and divine feasts of the Theotokos and Mother of the Lord have taken their beginning and end: the Nativity has its beginning, and the Dormition takes the end. To these let there be added ^B the two feasts of the Forerunner: his honorable and truly glorious nativity, and the iniquitous beheading of his head which he suffered unjustly. Join to these the feasts of the divine apostles, the herald Paul, I mean, and the coryphaeus Peter. In these feasts, then, if you intend to relax—in those which fall on a Wednesday or Friday—take only stewed vegetables and oil. But if you wish for cheese as well, in my judgment you shall do so on only four feasts: the Nativity of Christ, the Epiphany, the Presentation, and the Transfiguration. In the others, be content with fish and wine. I do not, however, establish this as a rule or law, nor do I speak according to the tenor of the Fathers, but I write according to our own weakness.

9. Concerning the other feasts in which there is rest, I mean rest from the hours and from work, and which they are, I am now to count them up. ^C The august and divine company of the apostles and those who shared Christ's life, the wonderful, honorable, and divine Twelve; and the host of the stout-hearted martyrs whose memorials are preeminent; and with them the company of the pontiffs, hieromartyrs, and ascetics who excel the others. In these feasts, therefore, break the fast; take only oil for food and wine for drink, but touch nothing else on these days, except on the feast of the Annunciation alone. You must observe the venerable and honorable Great Week, which contains the saving passion of the Lord, as no other, and you must relax only once in this week if a feast occurs on one of the days. By "feast," I mean the head of them all, the day on which the Annunciation of the Virgin ^D Theotokos is celebrated; but do not take fish, as some do, but oil and wine. It is superflous to designate the other days; or rather, if you are able, join the two days for me, Preparation and Sabbath, and remain without food until the holy liturgy comes to an end, and then eat, giving thanks to the Lord. Behold, the day to be adored has arrived, the Resurrection of Christ, the joy of the faithful; for having trampled down death as God and Master, He rose on the third day as He had foretold of old. Put off, therefore, your mourning garment yourself, and cease your fasting; for it is not a time for fasting, but for exultation and joy, as befits monks.

10. Having reached this point, I wish to select something from the all-wise and golden discourses of Chrysostom; although

he cried out regarding one of these things as follows: "Even if the time of the most venerable fast has passed, let its benefit remain with us always." Whence I too, in exhorting you, write as follows: Even if the time of the fast has perchance passed, yet the time of temperance has not passed at all; and you must keep this securely like a nurse. And even if the week of the Passion has passed, keep the fourth and the sixth day in absolute stillness. Abstain from cheese and egg, but not from other things; for on these days be free. For verily neither fasting nor genuflection is prescribed; for the holy Fathers, bringing these fifty days ^A into a cycle, said that they are one day. But regarding these, let this much suffice here. For another struggle lies before me from this point on; for the two Lents have been left thus—or rather, the fast conducted in August, which many delicately-living people reject entirely. Regarding these, too, an account must be given. First, we shall argue concerning the Birth of Christ. From ancient times we received the tradition to have one meal in this Lent, and not to touch fish on these three days: the second, the third, and the fifth ^B. I add to these the fourth and the sixth day; and to take neither oil nor wine on Saturday and Sunday at all. And this is enough about it; for there is nothing more to be written.

11. Therefore, it is necessary to go through the final points. A custom has prevailed in these fasts of eating twice a day, from where they took this I do not know, but I think because the season is hot at that time. But we must not pay attention to the custom at all, nor speak of how or why this is done, but rather carefully research and examine the documents of the Fathers and the canons of the wise and divine apostles, by which we must regulate our life in this way. Nevertheless, if you wish to have accurate knowledge ^C of these, search a little earlier in the fast of the Birth of Christ, and there you will find what you seek, and do what you wish.

12. I wished to finish the discourse here, but it is necessary for me to add a little something. I am afraid lest I seem burdensome to you in these matters. You ought to perform genuflections all the time, unless a feast of the fast intervenes, in which there is a cessation of the hours and the work. Do not fear the number; it is very small. You are to count twelve on the simple days; but fifteen in the Lents, in the fast of the Birth of Christ, and the two that remain for you. In that other Lent, ^D whose calling is "Great," you must double these, even if you do not remain with bended knees. And if the computation seems burdensome to you, even fulfill the twenty-four without hesitation; yet you shall not fulfill them once or twice a day, but as David the ancestor of God taught us, who exhorts us to praise God seven times a day. Reasoning then as a prudent person, you will find what I say: I shall begin from the light and continue until the darkness—aurora, prime, terce, sext, and none, vesper, after-supper together with the midnight [office].

^A I will add one more thing necessary, and may I not be blamed for explaining this later. I speak of the week before the meatfare [Sunday], which we also mostly call the week of the Arteiborii. Many have acquired the custom of feasting lightheartedly, falsely thinking that laypeople are able to eat meat, just as monks eat cheese, and in doing so they act wrongly. If they were descended from the Armenian tribe and held the heresy of the Arteiborii, they would do well to remove all suspicion; but since they are faithful Orthodox from their ancestors, they make excuses in vain when they break the fast. For those [the Armenians] fast for the whole week, feeding only on bread, water, and salt; whereas we break [the fast] starting from Monday. By this very fact we show that we do not commune with such people; and it is in vain that these [men] use the Arteiborii as a pretext.

^B 14. But since a small matter has escaped our notice, I come here to clarify it as follows: the week of [the eating of] cheese remains a broken fast, as do the fourth and sixth days. And someone might say: "Where is it clear how this came to be?" The Jacobites, as they say, keep this week as most holy and completely pure, using only bread and water; and for this reason the truly honorable Nicephorus, the great High Priest of Constantinople, canonically handed down the custom of breaking [the fast] on these days, overturning the dogmas of the two heresies, that of Jacob, I say, and the Tetradites. Hence the monasteries have the custom that, after completing the ninth hour and the evening hymn, they then only gather at the common table to eat cheese, fish, and drink wine. And we have indeed written what we found in writing; but if anyone does not accept this or believe it, let him go his own way as he wishes and as he pleases. I will add, however, one [note] about another week, which we call [the week] of All Saints; some suppose that it is not a broken fast, through bad conjecture and complete ignorance. For the divine apostles and lawgivers of all things wrote that it is indeed a broken fast. But perhaps one of the more "knowledgeable" might object, asking, "Where have the disciples of the Word mentioned this?" Let him search carefully and he will certainly find it; for I am unable to teach everything in detail. But those who search the Scripture diligently will obtain complete certainty from it.

^C 15. I have therefore written for you these few things from the many. But I testify and assure you of this: if you appear to be a guardian of such things, I guarantee you this—that you will attain a place at the right hand of the Savior, and together with Him and all the saints, you shall inherit the kingdom of heaven and eternal life. Behold therefore, my son, I have fulfilled your request as far as was possible for me and as my strength allowed. For you know well that I am utterly unlearned and completely crude in writing such things. But if what is done according to one's strength is pleasing to God, accept also for yourself, as a good thing, my intention alone. Here, at last, we put an end to our proposed discourse. If these things are for you ^D

the aim and the word. If they are acceptable to you, thanks be to God for this; but if they are often burdensome, then do as you will. May the Lord and God and Master of all, who desires all to be saved out of his love for mankind, Himself confirm you in the performance of good so that you may become a fulfiller of His commandments and appear as an heir of the kingdom of heaven in Christ my Lord, to whom be glory and power for ever and ever, and unto all ages. Amen.

The preceding work was taken by me from a codex of the Greek College in the alma urbe. In another codex of the same College I found some analogous passages. For after the matter of the three solemn fasts—before Pascha, before the passing of the Deipara, and before the Nativity of the Lord—had been treated, the anonymous author proceeds thus:

Similar things to this were also said by John, metropolitan of Nicaea, in the letter written to the council of the Armenians. The most holy patriarch of Constantinople, Lord Nicholas, while presiding over a synod, was asked by the monks of the Holy Mountain whether it is necessary to fast before the Dormition of the all-praised Theotokos, and he delivered the following in writing: "This fast was formerly at this time of August, but it was moved because of the pagan fasts occurring at this time. Nevertheless, we still observe this fast and fast; hence it is manifest, as we have said, that there was strictly one fast after the one week of Pentecost until the Dormition of the Theotokos; but it was divided by the holy Fathers for the sake of economy. It was fixed to fast until the feast of the Holy Apostles, then to break it; then to fast from the beginning of August until the Dormition of the Theotokos and then again to break it. What then were we to do, if we fasted this without interruption? Now you who are doubting about such fasts have the testimony from the apostolic and patriarchal traditions; henceforth do not doubt, lest you be condemned as a transgressor of the divine ordinances."

ANNO DOMINI 929.

ANONYMOUS. NOTICE.

(Ang. Mai in Spicil. Rom. tom. V, p. 598.)

In two paper codices of the Vatican library, Ottob. 77, f. 22, and Vat. 1455, f. item 25 (of which a recent apograph is in Vat. 7143, f. 330), I discovered a Greek fragment of pontifical history, albeit very brief, which I have titled *De Papis ex chronico*. Indeed, thirteen popes, and sometimes antipopes, are contained in this fragment, from Formosus to the intruder John, successor of the tenth. (See Bernardus Guidonis, pp. 213-222.) Which Greek chronicle that was, neither codex demonstrates, because, clearly, in both instances there is a miscellaneous collection of various things which in no way pertain to the said chronicle. It remained for me, therefore, to present this fragment here to the readers—it being truly good and precious, because it deals with an obscure or at any rate turbulent part of papal history.